


Get Some

by sara_holmes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, OC Draco - the one with a backbone, Punches are thrown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-16
Updated: 2010-07-16
Packaged: 2019-03-26 10:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 78,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13855818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_holmes/pseuds/sara_holmes
Summary: Voldemort is dead. Life goes on. Harry is sick and tired of everyone treating him differently and letting him get away with everything.(FFdotnet 2010 story being uploaded here by request.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this NEARLY NINE YEARS AGO what is happening to my life. Some people requested that I post it here after the demise of my FFdotnet profile. Please do not judge my past self too harshly; she was young, carefree and quite clearly an idiot.

The West Tower common room was normally a quiet place. It was huge circular room with the necessary squashy armchairs and desks to work at and a huge fireplace that kept the place warm at night. Elegant stone archways that led up to the private dorms punctured the walls at regular intervals and tall thin windows between the archways let light in no matter what time of day it was.

The tower was the home of the clan of returning Hogwarts 'Eighth years', students whose exams had been disrupted by the war. The older students relished the relative peace the common room offered, forsaking the bustle and noise of the main castle and instead choosing to spend most of their free time in their Tower, sitting haphazardly in the armchairs and chatting, working at the desks or playing chess in front of the fire. It was calm and the twenty five occupants wanted to keep it that way.

There had of course, been uneasiness and even a scuffle or two between the new occupants of the West Tower when they had first moved in but they had died down quickly, the situation driven by a mutual desire for peace. Tentative connections had been made, and truces struck up between former rivals and enemies and now the seven Gryffindors, seven Hufflepuffs, six Ravenclaws and five Slytherins found themselves, well, actually getting along.

However, on the evening of the ninth of September, a full week after classes had restarted, the relative peace of Friday evening was shattered by the arrival of Harry Potter, who stormed into the common room, furious and in a full blown rage.

"Harry!" Hermione Granger looked up from one of the desks where an assortment of books were spread out in front of her, looking concerned. "What's wrong?

"What's wrong? What's fucking wrong?" Harry shouted, slinging his bag onto one of the sofa's with unnecessary force and grabbing his hair in frustration.

Hermione dropped her quill and smartly slid out from behind the desk, hurrying over to Harry who was looking murderous.

"I just managed to break every single window in the damn Charms room and I didn't even get told off! No detention, not a word, nothing!" Harry ranted.

"What-" Hermione began but Harry wasn't stopping.

"You heard me fucking swearing when I burnt my hand in potions on Tuesday and I _know_ Slughorn heard me and he didn't say anything! And I forgot to read that chapter for McGonagall and even _she_ didn't say anything for fucks sake!"

Hermione glanced around, biting her lip. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were sat at a desk watching and looking mildly interested in the proceedings. Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Padma Patil and Hannah Abbott were staring unashamedly from a sofa near theirs, Seamus was studiously staring at his Quidditch magazine but could obviously hear every word and Ernie MacMillan was watching Harry over the top of his Transfiguration book.

"They're meant to be treating me the same as everyone else," Harry said, his hands unconsciously balling into fists. "None of this special treatment hero crap."

Hermione was about to respond, reaching out to take Harry's hand when she heard a snort of laughter behind them. They both whipped around and saw Blaise Zabini cover his mouth with his hand and Draco lean away from him, smirking, having clearly muttered something in the other boys ear.

"Want to share, Malfoy?" Harry snapped across the room, his voice loud and trembling with fury. Fuck the cautious and awkward truce he and Draco had made when they had met over the summer for Harry to return Draco's wand; whilst not enemies anymore they still weren't _friends_ and Harry was at breaking point.

"I was just saying what a terrible burden it must be to have everyone still giving you preferential treatment," he drawled, idly flicking the quill in his fingers back and forth.

Harry strode over the room and slammed his hands down on Draco's desk, either side of the book Draco had been looking at, coming almost nose to nose with the Slytherin. "You of all people should know it's not great being treated differently because of what happened," he said angrily.

"Yes, I know," Draco said, sounding uninterested. "Come on Potter, we're not meant to be fighting anymore. We were doing pretty well at ignoring each other until today-"

"Great. Just great. You too, treating me differently," Harry said bitterly.

"You'd rather I didn't?" Draco asked, a pale eyebrow raised ever so slightly and a glint in his eye.

"Yes," Harry shot, glaring at Draco.

"Fine," Draco shrugged, putting his quill down, his eyes meeting Harry's for a split second before moving quicker than Harry could have anticipated, slapping Harry full across the face with shocking force.

There were shrieks and shouts from all areas of the common room as Harry reeled backwards, staggering and clutching his rapidly reddening face.

"Happy?" Draco asked in a bored voice, picking up his quill once more. "If you want me to go back to being a bastard to you on any other occasions…" he gave an elegant shrug. "I'll more than happily oblige."


	2. Chapter 2

Even though Harry's ears were ringing from the force of the slap he had just been dealt, he couldn't quite believe it had happened. Only when Hermione appeared at his side, looking furious and pointing her wand at Draco, who didn't even bother looking back up from his book, did he resister that he really had just been slapped by Draco Malfoy.

"Hermione, no," Harry managed to say, taking hold of her wrist and forcing her wand down to point at the floor whilst straightening his glasses with his free hand.

"He just _hit_ you!" Hermione said, sounding stunned.

"I know, but leave it. Come on," he said, walking away and pulling Hermione with him by her hand, grabbing his school bag on the way.

"Harry!"

He heard Seamus's shocked sounding voice but didn't turn around; he pulled Hermione with him out of the common room and up through one of the stone archways which led up to the room he and Ron shared.

The moment the door was shut behind them, Hermione turned on him, looking and sounding furious. "What on Earth was that about?"

"I asked for it," Harry said, walking over to his mirror and examining his face. There was a clear hand shaped mark on his cheek- he swore he could see the lines of Draco's fingers on his skin.

"You didn't ask to be slapped!" Hermione said forcefully.

"Hermione, leave it," Harry said weakly.

She eyed him carefully for a long moment and then walked over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and making him sit down on his unmade bed before disappearing into the bathroom with a shake of her head.

Harry gingerly touched his face, still feeling a little stunned. Draco had hit him- in full view of everyone and clearly not giving a damn that Harry was the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived or any of those other labels he'd been given in his nineteen years. To Malfoy, he was still just _Potter,_ a boy he wouldn't think twice about before smacking around the face.

"Here," Hermione said softly, passing him a cool flannel which he took gratefully and pressed to his stinging cheek.

"Are you going to tell McGonagall?" She asked and Harry shook his head.

"Didn't think you would," Hermione said, sitting next to him with a sigh. "You know, I was waiting for something to blow up between you two."

"Yeah I know," Harry said. "It was expecting a lot for a truce between me and Malfoy to go according to plan."

Hermione gave him a small rueful smile which he returned, the pair of them lapsing into silence for a few moments before Harry spoke again, unable to contain his thoughts.

"Did you see it though, Hermione? He just hit me, he didn't gave a damn about who I am, he just-"

"Harry James Potter, you better not be condoning Malfoy hitting you," Hermione said sternly. "No matter how bad your week has been, you didn't deserve that-"

"I know I didn't deserve it, it's not that…" Harry trailed off, unsure of how to explain. Since the war, everyone had treated him like a hero, like he was something incredible, and to be honest Harry was sick to the back teeth of it and just wanted to be normal. Being hit in the face by Malfoy was the closest Harry had felt to things being normal in weeks.

Everything these days was so…different. Not that Harry was complaining about it, most of the changes were definitely for the better and he was infinitely grateful for it. Although he had to admit he still wasn't entirely used to all the changes now they were back at school; seeing Ron and Blaise Zabini sat opposite each other in the common room with a game of chess between them always made him do a double take. It was great for Ron; Blaise was the only person in about a hundred mile radius who could give him a proper challenge when it came to chess. Just as odd was seeing Pansy Parkinson sat gossiping with Lavender Brown, or Malfoy and Hermione talking (or arguing) about potions work. It was all still a bit surreal.

Harry definitely didn't have a problem with any of that, not at all. It was strange, especially with the Slytherins, but he'd get used to it. True, Pansy irritated the crap out of him and Blaise was a cocky so and so, but all ill will between them had well and truly gone. Both had even made apologies to Harry, and he was thrilled to find his number of enemies rapidly dwindling.

Malfoy though, was something else. When they had met over the summer after Draco had been released from Ministry custody, Draco had looked Harry in the eye, taken a deep breath and apologised for _everything._ Harry had been completely blown away by it and had instantly held out his hand for Draco to shake. Draco had done, with a small twisted smile and the soft words, 'well, a truce it is then Potter.'

In school Malfoy had studiously avoided Harry, not saying a word to him and keeping well out of his way. Harry would have been delighted if not for the recent frustration that had developed with everyone treating him differently- he didn't _want_ Malfoy to treat him differently. He wanted the insults, the snipes, the scowls back. Harry knew he were being petty and ridiculous but at that point in time he just didn't care. The way the teachers were treating him, it was like he was invisible whilst being under a bright spotlight at the same time.

But, _Malfoy._ As Harry laid back on his bed, removing the cold flannel from his face, his thoughts drifted back to the blonde. A small smile lit up Harry's face as he thought again about what had just happened. That snarky git had actually dared, actually had the audacity to reach out and hit Harry James Potter; The Chosen One and Defeater of the Dark Lord like he was a common school-kid…and to Harry, it felt liberating and completely fucking awesome.

 

* * *

 

 

"You're a complete idiot- you're going to be in so much trouble," Blaise hissed into Draco's ear, his eyes skirting around the common room. People were still looking at them.

"No I'm not," Draco said indifferently, idly turning a page of his book.

"You just slapped _Harry Potter,_ of course you're going to be in trouble!" Blaise snapped.

"He won't say anything," Draco said, getting irritated. "Just drop it."

"It's Potter, of course he'll say something-" Blaise retorted, forcefully flipping over pages in his Charms book without really looking for anything.

"No, he wont," Draco replied firmly. "Did you not hear what he was shouting about? He's going to be getting off on the fact I dared hit him."

"How the hell do you work that one out?" Blaise asked, sounding incredulous. "You really know him _that_ well-"

"I've watched him for eight years," Draco shrugged, interrupting Blaise mid snipe. "Bound to pick up a few pointers. Look, if he were really angry he'd have let Granger hex me. He didn't, so no-one will do anything to me. They're all still tripping over themselves to do exactly what he wants."

"You better be right," Blaise said, his eyes scanning the common room once more. "Finnegan looks _pissed._ "


	3. Chapter 3

Harry opened his eyes groggily and had a brief moment of irritation wondering why the hell he was suddenly awake this early on a Saturday morning before the answer assaulted him; someone was pounding on the door of the room he shared with Ron and repeatedly shouting his surname, sounding thoroughly pissed off.

He glanced over to Ron's bed and saw it was empty, which immediately struck him as unusual. Ron normally slept way later than Harry, and after spending the previous night with Hermione in the common room until the early hours of the morning, Harry would have assumed that today Ron would be in bed until lunchtime.

"Alright!" he shouted when the banging didn't relent, hauling himself out of bed with a bad grace and stomping over to the door.

"What?" snapped, yanking the door open and coming face to face with someone he wasn't expecting: Blaise Zabini.

"Your bunch of merry men are in the process of hexing Draco to hell and back for slapping you yesterday- come and sort it out!" Blaise stormed.

"What?" Harry asked, momentarily thrown, his sleep fogged brain trying to process what Blaise was saying.

"Weasley and Finnegan! They've locked me out of my own fucking room and they're in there with Draco!"

"Oh for fucks sake-" Harry went back into his room to hastily grab his wand off of his bedside table and followed Zabini out of the room and down the spiral staircase, marching across the common room and through an archway directly opposite the one they had just come through, up to where Harry knew Draco and Blaise shared a room.

Harry thumped on the door behind which he could hear low muffled voices. The voices paused and Harry banged again.

"Ron, let me in," he said clearly, trying to keep his temper under check. He was sure getting this angry on a regular basis wasn't going to be good for anyone's health, least of all his.

"Harry?" A uncertain voice came back.

"Yes, Harry. Let me in," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. Next to him, Blaise was tapping his foot against the floor and looking unmistakably worried under his anger.

There was a dull click and Harry reached out to push the door, which opened slowly and silently. He stepped in and saw Ron leaning idly against the wall, twirling his wand between his fingers. Seamus was sat on a chair with his feet on the desk, his wand pointing at Draco, who was sat unmoving on the edge of his own bed, not making a sound. Harry was relieved but a little suspicious as Draco didn't appear to be harmed, hexed or cursed in any way- at least not in any way that was visible.

"What's going on?" Harry asked wearily.

Ron gave him a grin. "Just having a word with him," he said with a feigned air of innocence. "Just letting him know exactly what will happen to him if he ever touches you again."

"What have you done to him?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Nowt," Seamus shrugged.

Harry saw Draco's mouth open indignantly and some choice four letter words took shape on his lips even though not a sound was made.

"Finite incantatem," a voice said sharply from behind Harry.

"-absolute fucking cunts about something that isn't their fucking business anyway-."

"Oh for- Silencio!"

Three pairs of Gryffindor eyes turned to stare at Blaise who shrugged unapologetically, lowering his wand. "When Draco resorts to the 'C' word it means he's going to be ranting for a while."

Draco had now turned his silent rant on Blaise who stared unabashedly back at him, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like _'I told you so.'_

"Guys, come on," Harry said to Ron and Seamus, jerking his head towards the door. "Please, just leave it."

Seamus raised an eyebrow as Ron watched Harry carefully. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am. Come on, I'm done with fighting."

"But he hit you," Ron began.

"Yeah, he gave me the girliest slap in the world, now drop it," Harry said forcefully.

"No, Harry come on!" Ron argued. "He can't get away with doing that-"

"It was me who got hit, this is my business," Harry said levelly, glancing from Ron to Seamus.

"But you won't do anything about it," Ron said. Seamus nodded his head fractionally in what Harry assumed was agreement.

"I don't want to do anything about it," Harry said. "It was _nothing,_ it's really not worth getting in trouble over. Which you two will," he added. "If you hex him in any way shape or form, you know what McGonagall said about us all getting on."

Ron sighed, but apparently saw some merit in Harry's words. "If you insist," he shrugged, pushing away from the wall and heading to the door. Seamus got up and followed, also giving a resigned sigh on the way out. Harry set to follow and his hand was on the doorframe when he was struck by an urge and paused.

"Zabini, mind if I have a quick word with him?"

Blaise had put one foot through the door but stopped dead at Harry's words. "You're not going to hurt him are you?"

"No. I want to talk to him."

"Fine," Blaise said grumpily, turning on heel and stomping back down the stairs.

Harry pulled the door shut and turned back into the room, walking over to sit opposite Draco on the edge of Blaise's bed, eyeing him carefully. He raised his wand once and jabbed it in Draco's direction, cancelling the silencing spell that Draco's fellow Slytherin had cast on him.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't think anyone would do anything," Harry said immediately.

Draco snorted. "Neither did I. Looks like I underestimated how far your bunch of Gryffindors will go to defend your honour."

"I wish they didn't," Harry said moodily.

"Potter, why are you here?" Draco asked abruptly. "What do you want?"

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted.

"Don't strain yourself whilst you work it out," Draco said irritably, moving to lie back on his bed with his hands behind his head. The movement pulled the grey T-shirt he was wearing up a fraction so a strip of white skin was revealed. As his eyes took in the skin Harry was immediately struck with how different Draco looked in a T-shirt and black cotton pyjama bottoms- so different to everything he normally wore; black trousers, jackets, shirts, ties.

"Why did you slap me?" Harry blurted out before he was aware he wanted to ask the question.

"Because I can't punch straight," Draco retorted.

"Seriously," Harry said, resisting the urge to pull a face at the blonde.

"Because you looked like you needed it."

Draco's response was unexpected and Harry had to repeat it to himself mentally before he really registered and understood what Draco had said.

"What do you mean?" he opted for cautiously asking.

"I heard you ranting in the common room. Everyone did," Draco said, his eyes trained on the ceiling above his bed. "You're getting mad because no-one dares say anything to you anymore, let alone touch you."

Harry paused, still feeling uncertain. "You did this…as a favour?"

"Well yeah. Unconventional, but I guess so," Draco said with the ghost of a smile, turning his eyes to Harry.

"Look, I don't hate you anymore," Draco said abruptly before Harry could formulate a reply. "You saved my life, Potter."

"Well…yeah," Harry said lamely. "But the thought of you doing anything for me…"

"It's not like I'm giving you hugs and politeness and ridiculous Gryffindor-ish gestures…" Draco said with only a bite of impatience. "I give you what you need. Which right now is someone to remind you you're only human."

Harry was speechless. "How the hell do you know all this?" he asked, amazed. He wasn't even going to deny it; Draco was dead on and Harry was too stunned to try and tell him he was wrong on principle.

"I know more about you than you realise, Potter," Draco said, with another small strange smile.

"Well if you're doing stuff for me, what do you want from this?" Harry asked him. He _was_ dealing with a Slytherin after all.

Draco started and sat up, looking at Harry with wide eyes. "Are you kidding me? I've got the green light to not have to bow down to you like everyone else, and you think that's not enough?"

Harry was struggling to keep up with the conversation, he had no idea what was really going on past the realisation that Draco Malfoy not only no longer hated him, but wanted to help him.

"So you don't see me as any different," Harry tried to establish, pushing his glasses up out the way and pinching the bridge of the nose with his fingers.

"Of course you're different," Draco scoffed. "You did a huge thing…you should be praised for that but you shouldn't be victimised."

Harry refrained from jumping up and hugging the boy that was looking intently at him across the room, the boy that was his former nemesis and schoolyard rival, the one person who seemed to _get_ how Harry was feeling. He was undoubtedly the most unexpected person ever, but Harry didn't care; it was such a relief for someone to understand, no matter if said person had once stamped on his face and broken his nose…

"So we've just agreed…to…" Harry trailed off hoping Draco would fill in the gap for him.

"We've agreed to continue with our truce and maybe even get on if the occasion calls for it, and to also fight it out with none of the, oh god it's Harry Potter mustn't lay a finger on him dramatics, if the occasion calls for it," Draco answered promptly.

"So if I pick a fight with you?" Harry asked experimentally.

"Of course I'm going to smack you right across that stupid face of yours."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And you're not worried about getting in trouble?"

"No," Draco shrugged.

"Alright. I can live with that," Harry said, standing up and holding his hand out to Draco. Draco hesitated for all of a second, and then stood up and shook Harry's hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning came and Harry's mood, which had been marginally improved by his conversation with Malfoy, rapidly took a nosedive.

First of all he had taken only a few steps out of West Tower when a brazen first year with chubby cheeks and madly curly brown hair stopped him to ask for his autograph. He declined as politely as he could and then had turned to hide behind Ron and Hermione but found he couldn't; they had wandered off hand in hand and not noticed that Harry was being assaulted by a brash and scarily determined eleven year old.

They apologised profusely when Harry reached the breakfast table and told them what had happened, but before he could be comforted by their apologies and feel much better, another brash and scarily determined person sat next to him with an unmistakable air of meaning business.

"Where have you been?" Ginny asked Harry with a smile, reaching out to take a piece of toast. "I've been trying to collar you since we got back; you know I'm not allowed in West Tower."

Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione but abandoned his plan of giving them the 'help me out I really don't want to be having this conversation' look when he saw them sat head to head, smiling together, talking softly about something or other.

"It's been busy, Gin," Harry said apologetically. "Everything's still all over the place, I mean, it doesn't feel like things have settled back yet."

"Oh," she said quietly and Harry inwardly winced at her tone and his choice of words. He had of course seen her after the final battle but simply hadn't had the time to sort things out with her. He had managed to have a half hearted conversation with her one rainy afternoon before he had to go off to the Ministry, and had promised he would pick things back up with her when the commotion had all died down.

"So…you've not thought about anything?" she asked him cautiously.

"I've not had the time," Harry said moodily.

"You've had time to start playing Quidditch again…" Ginny began bluntly but didn't continue that line of conversation, possibly because of the look on Harry's face.

"I heard you'd had a rough week," she said hesitantly, changing tactics. "Is there anything I can do?"

Her words were gentle and sweet and shouldn't have made Harry flare up with simmering rage again, but they did. He didn't need people to keep doing stuff for him, he was more than capable of looking after himself if they'd just let him, it was getting ridiculous.

"No," he said shortly.

"OK, I was only offering," Ginny said, holding her hands up defensively.

"Well, don't," Harry snapped. "I don't want you running round after me, I don't need it."

"Harry, come on. Stop it. You deserve-"

"If you say I deserve everyone doing everything for me, god help me I will hex you," Harry said, his temper finally spilling over and causing him to stand up and grab his bag, abandoning his breakfast.

"Harry!"

He wasn't sure if it were Ginny or Hermione who had called after him, sounding scandalised, and he didn't turn around to find out. Instead he stormed out of the Hall, knocking over a pair of third year Ravenclaws on his way through the front doors of the castle.

He didn't stop until he reached the edge of the lake, slinging his bag down on the ground beside him, his chest heaving as he tried desperately to calm down. This was _beyond_ ridiculous, he didn't _want_ to be mollycoddled and looked out for and ran around after, he just wanted to be normal, and feel like any other nineteen year old-

He dropped to his knees, wrenching his bag open and pulling out his Potions text book which he would need for the first lesson today. He staggered to his feet, pulled his arm back and then hurled the book as far as he could out into the lake.

It sunk beneath the surface of the water, disappearing without a trace and Harry watched it go without a shred of regret. That was it. He was going to _make_ them treat him like everyone else, he was going to get someone to shout at him, he was going to get in trouble just like everyone else if it were the last fucking thing he did.

 

* * *

 

 

"Harry, M'boy, where's your book?"

"I lost it."

"You've- you've lost it? You've only been back a week!"

"Yes. I left it by the lake."

"Oh. Nevermind eh? I'll fetch you my copy."

 

* * *

 

"Harry, wait up!"

Harry kept walking, almost shaking with frustration. He had made it all the way out of the dungeons, across the entrance hall and up two flights of stairs before Hermione caught up with him and looped her arm through his, looking worried.

"What's going on with you?" she asked quietly.

"What would have happened if you had lost your textbook? Or anyone else?" Harry demanded, stopping in the middle of the corridor and facing her.

"I don't know-" she began a little desperately.

"Yeah you do," Harry said bitterly, walking away from her back down the way he had just came.

"Harry! You're going the wrong way- we've got Charms in ten minutes-"

"I'm not going," Harry called back over his shoulder.

"Harry, please!" Hermione shouted after him.

Harry turned to face her, still taking steps backwards along the corridor. "I'll see you later, I promise."

He turned away and walked along the corridor away from her and the stares of the students who had heard their altercation. He trod the now familiar path up to West tower and collapsed in an armchair, taking his glasses off and rubbing his face vigorously.

The look on Hermione's face as he walked away flickered through his mind and he felt a strong twinge of guilt flash through him. After all it wasn't his friends' fault that everything was so messed up. True, Ron and Hermione weren't treating him any differently, but he was wound up that they couldn't see why he was so lost and confused and angry.

"Fuck," he growled, shoving his glasses back onto his face and grabbing his bag. He would go to Charms and say sorry to Hermione. And who knows, he might even be in trouble for being late…

 

* * *

 

"Potter, you're late!"

"Sorry Professor."

"That's fine, take a seat."

 

* * *

 

"Thank you," Hermione breathed as Harry slid into the seat next to her and reached out, squeezing her hand.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I know," she whispered back, her grip tightening on his fingers for a moment before letting go. Harry retrieved his Charms book out of his bag and flicked through it dispiritedly, having no idea what the lesson was about. He really didn't like getting mad at people like Hermione and Ron and Ginny, but they just didn't _get_ it. He thought for a while bout how he could make it up to them, barely listening to a word that Professor Flitwick was saying, before his attention was turned elsewhere. He could feel the familiar prickles along his spine that let him know someone was staring at him.

He twisted round in his seat, and saw Draco Malfoy sat one desk along and two rows behind him, his chin resting on the palm of his hand and the end his little finger between his just parted lips, his eyes fixed firmly on Harry.

Harry raised his eyebrows in question and Draco slowly moved, the finger sliding from behind his lips as his hand shifted slightly and his head turned a little so his first and second fingers were splayed across his cheek, and then Harry realised Draco was swearing at him; giving him a casual two fingered salute across the classroom whilst pretending to make notes on his parchment.

Harry couldn't help it. He rolled his eyes at the blonde but had to bite back a grin, turning back in his seat and feeling a little calmer. He could still feel Draco's eyes on him, and knew that Draco continued to watch him for most of the lesson, but he didn't turn around again.

Lunch went far too quickly for Harry. Instead of going to the Great Hall, Hermione firmly led him up to West Tower as Ron went via the kitchens to bring them up some food to eat there. That was nice: Harry felt calm and relaxed in the company of his two friends, who didn't ask him all about his feelings and what he wanted them to do to help, but instead chatted about Quidditch and unicorns and the new song by the Weird Sisters and the upcoming trip into Hogsmeade.

Being sworn at by Malfoy, being free to just sit and chat with Hermione and Ron without being stared at by the rest of the school…it was sweet relief, and the relief managed to last all the way until his only and last class of the afternoon; Defence against the Dark arts.

He had gotten there on time, forgotten his text book on purpose with the aim of testing the waters with the new Professor (a loud, large, strict woman called Barnslock) to see if maybe she were channelling the spirit of Severus Snape and would give him a months worth of detentions for even _thinking_ about forgetting his book – but it was a doomed attempt; it was a practical session and no-ones books even left their bags so Harry's missing copy went unnoticed.

Nettled by that to start with, Harry had been partnered with Seamus with the aim of revising non-verbal shield charms and ended up standing next to Blaise and Draco. Draco once again seemed to take a great interest in Harry and spent a lot of time watching him with bright grey eyes instead of listening to Blaise.

"Malfoy!" Barnslock barked across the room ten minutes into the session. "Eyes on your own partner please! Stand up and get working!"

"Yeah, _Malfoy_ ," Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Draco scowled, and stepped away from the wall he had been lounging against and standing next to Harry, so they were almost shoulder to shoulder but facing opposite ways towards their respective partners.

"Shut up, Potter," Malfoy said back, in a clearly audible voice. "Just because she won't notice you even if you set yourself on fire-"

The anger flared up in Harry once more and without thinking, he turned and shoved Draco with all the force he could muster, sending the Slytherin tripping backwards. Draco didn't recover and fell to the floor, the back of his head hitting the stone floor with a nasty sounding crack.

There were shrieks and gasps and cheers around the room, and Harry wheeled around, his heart hammering in his chest, just knowing he was going to be in some serious trouble-

"Mister Malfoy, get up!"

Barnslock walked over briskly as Blaise pulled Draco to his feet who was looking mutinous, his hand holding the back of his head.

"Professor, I'm sorry-" Harry blurted as she reached them.

"For what?" she asked, staring at Harry with an unashamed gaze. "It is not your fault Mister Malfoy here _tripped._ "

"You have to be fucking kidding me-" Harry began.

"Mister Potter," Professor Barnslock said loudly, covering Harry's incredulous words with her booming voice. "Kindly escort Malfoy to the hospital wing, he needs some attention."

Harry stared at the Professor in disbelief for one long moment and then admitted defeat, shaking his head and walking away, out of the classroom.

"You're doing a rubbish job at escorting me," a drawling voice behind him made him jump. He hadn't even noticed that Draco had followed him out of the room, but he did notice that he was now looking at him in something that looked suspiciously like amusement.

"Do you need escorting?" Harry asked him, shoving his hands into his pockets and watching Draco moodily.

"I don't know, do I?" Draco asked. "I can't see the back of my own head, idiot."

Harry made an impatient noise and reached out, turning Malfoy around by his shoulders to examine the back of his head.

"No. You're not bleeding. You've got a bit of a bump though…"

"Do you think they can hear us in there?" Draco asked suddenly, jerking his head towards the now closed door of the Defence classroom.

"No. You can't normally hear noise from the corridors in the rooms can you?" Harry said.

"Oh. Good," Draco replied, and Harry knew what was going to happen a split second before it did; Draco moved like lightning and a fist connected with Harry's nose with a sickening crunch, sending him sprawling onto the floor of the corridor, the wind knocked out of him as he made contact with the cold stones, his glasses flying off and landing three feet away from him with a clatter.

" _That_ ," Draco said venomously, pointing down at Harry. "Was for pushing me over."

"You-" Harry said thickly, holding his nose and looking up at the blurry outline of Draco, who was examining his knuckles.

"Oh yeah. I lied," Draco said, dropping to his knees and grabbing Harry by the tie, yanking him forward so their faces were only inches apart. "I _can_ punch straight."

And then he had let go and was walking away, rubbing the back of his head and not looking back.

Harry barely registered the pain in his nose; instead he was filled with a heady rush, the same feeling of liberation flooding through him as when Draco had slapped him. It wasn't that he was getting off on getting hurt- far from it. He didn't enjoy being punched or slapped in the slightest- it was the psychology behind the actions that he knew he was going to rapidly become addicted to.

He reached out with a steady hand and picked up his glasses which were somehow still intact and put them back on his face. Draco was long gone but Harry didn't mind, he was busy thinking about the fact that in this ocean of feeling lost and confused and bitter and angry, Draco was the strongest chain anchoring him to any sense of normality, the one person who was treating him like any other person-

Harry groaned as he stood up, knowing he had to go to the hospital wing. He knew it was like sixth year all over again- he was fully resigned to the fact that once more he was becoming rapidly obsessed with Draco Malfoy.


	5. Chapter 5

The punch to the face that Harry had taken kept him calm and steady for a whole week. He didn't tell Ron or Hermione about it; for him it was a secret that he was holding to him, almost like a talisman that enabled him to muddle through his lessons and get around the stares and whispering of the students by thinking hard about the fact it was OK, there was at least one person who wouldn't let him get away with murder. If there was one, soon there might be more.

The current one person however, was giving Harry a whole new set of issues to deal with, namely because in the week that followed the punching incident, Harry noticed that Draco kept _watching_ him.

It wasn't in the old malevolent way, which Harry would have welcomed; there were no scowls or glares but nevertheless it was a little unnerving. The gaze was calm and curious, and often tempered with amusement, a small smile that sometimes looked a little wistful playing on the Slytherins lips.

Harry didn't understand the looks, not at all. As far as he could tell, Draco didn't look at anyone else like that, with a strange mix of interest and longing. Harry wasn't alone in his observations, after a few days Ron asked him in a worried voice why Malfoy was watching him, and Harry had to say he didn't know.

There was something else about Malfoy that Harry didn't understand either: the fact that it was obvious that Harry knew that Draco was watching him, but he didn't seem to mind at all. Harry would turn around in lessons, or at dinner, or in the library, raise his eyebrows and mouth _'what?'_ and Draco would just shrug and carry on looking. Even when Ron caught him looking Draco would stare back completely unabashed and Ron would finally turn away, sending a bewildered look in Harry's direction.

All in all, Draco didn't seem to care about a lot these days. Harry did some watching of his own, and noticed there had been a marked change in the Slytherin since the war. Before, he could easily have called Draco a coward without a moment of hesitation, but now…

Harry clearly recalled the look on Draco's face when he had pulled him to him by his tie after punching him; a mix of anger, a little contempt, excitement, but not a shred of fear or doubt. The same went in classes; Draco would answer back, get in trouble, get detentions and he wouldn't even bat an eyelid. He didn't seem proud of it, or take it all as a joke; he would just shrug and continue doodling on his parchment. Draco _had_ to know that after everything he did every Professor in the building would be watching his every move but he didn't make any effort to keep his nose clean.

Lying on his back on his bed with the Marauder's map held in his hands, Harry contemplated going to see Draco and ask him what the hell he was doing. It was dinnertime and everyone else was in the Great Hall but Draco, it appeared, wasn't among them. Harry's eyes scanned the dots across the map, searching for the Slytherin and finally found him by the edge of the lake, all by himself. Perfect.

Knowing Draco was alone drove Harry to get up and make the decision to talk to him. He just couldn't shake the feeling that Draco held answers for him, that the blonde enigma was the key to getting through all this.

 

* * *

 

"Surely you shouldn't be out here alone? I'll bet there's people here that would still like to get their hands on you."

Draco heard the voice behind him and turned to see Harry Potter sauntering down the grassy bank towards him.

"Let them," Draco said indifferently with a slight shrug, turning back towards the lake. He had half been expecting Potter to come and find him at some point but hadn't pinned any hopes on it.

Harry didn't reply but came to stand next to Draco, shoulder to shoulder, both of them looking out over the water.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly.

"You're welcome," Draco said, blinking slowly as he stared out over the water which looked almost black in the fading light. Bats flitted across the surface of the lake snatching insects from above the water and in the distance over the gentle sounds of the water they could hear the shrieks of Thestrals on the opposite shore.

"Why don't you care anymore?" Harry asked him suddenly.

Draco turned his head to look at Harry who still gazed out over the water. "Should I care?" he asked quietly.

"You're alive, aren't you," Harry replied. "You made it through the war…"

"My Father didn't," Draco said abruptly, kicking at a pebble on the grass which rolled down the last of the slope and became submerged in the water.

"But-" Harry began.

"Drop it, Potter," Draco said forcefully. "I _don't_ care anymore, and that's that."

Silence fell between them but it wasn't uncomfortable. The light faded further and still they stood there in the twilight under the sky that was streaked with black and purple, clouds gliding silently and quickly over their heads, looking out over the water and taking some strange solace in the other. Harry was still wondering what on Earth was going on in Draco for him to abandon himself in the way he had.

"What's it like having to watch your every step?" Harry asked quietly after a while, a gentle reminder to Draco that everyone was keeping an eye on him.

Draco sighed. "I'm not watching my steps, everyone else is."

Harry gave a bitter but understanding smile. "I wish someone were watching mine."

"They are."

Harry shrugged. "Not in the way I want them to."

"I'm watching your steps, Potter," Draco said almost inaudibly, and Harry looked sharply around at him.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Why have you been watching me?"

Draco turned slowly, a small strange smile on his face and his eyes burning. Harry tried to swallow as Draco stepped right up to him, reaching out and gripping Harry's tie just as he had done before, holding it tightly so Harry couldn't step back or move away.

"Have you not worked it out yet, Potter?"

He was getting closer and Harry's brain had seized up, Draco was only inches away from him and his breath was ghosting over Harry's lips and Harry couldn't move, Draco's legs were touching his, and Draco had gotten so close that Harry could see miniscule flecks of blue in Draco's grey eyes, surely he wasn't going to-

Draco let go of Harry's tie, the fire in his eyes suddenly giving way to a more familiar and recognisable emotion: fear. He stepped back quickly and gave Harry one last searching look before turning around and walking swiftly away.

Harry reached up and touched his lips with trembling fingers, feeling shocked to his very core. Draco had wanted to kiss him- Harry had felt the waves of desire and frustration and want rolling off of the blonde like heat, and he had gotten so close…

Panicking, Harry shut his brain off before it could continue the thought and imagine what it would have been like to be kissed by Draco. He wasn't going to think about that, he _wasn't._

With a clunk all the pieces seemed to slot together in Harry's brain- how the _hell_ had he missed this up until now? How Draco had watched him, how Draco had irrationally hated him for years, how Draco had been unwilling to sell Harry out to Voldemort during the war, all that could be traced back to one point no matter how desperately Harry tried to tell himself otherwise, or find another reason for it-

Fuck. Harry may have been clueless when it came to these things but his instincts had always been good, and in the face of Draco's rather large hint, Harry's instincts were screaming at him.

"Malfoy _likes_ me," Harry whispered to no-one, his fingers still on his lips. Oh God. What was he going to do now?

 

* * *

 

"Harry!"

Harry winced and dropped the Marauders Map onto his chest as Ron came barrelling into their room, flinging the door open which hit the stone wall behind it with a crash.

"You're going to break that door if you keep doing that," Harry said conversationally as Ron walked across the room before giving a shrug and dropping onto his bed on his back, mirroring Harry's pose.

"Enough about that, where've you been? Ginny said you were meant to meet her at dinner," Ron said, stretching out with his hands behind his head.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I got sidetracked, doing some work you know," Harry said, getting up from his previous position of lying on his back on his bed to sit on the edge instead.

"That's a rubbish excuse mate," Ron said, quirking en eyebrow, and Harry gave a weak smile. He had half expected Ron to not say anything and the simple reprimand was nice to hear.

"It'd be more believable if you had any books out and weren't just staring at the map," Ron continued with a grin.

"I know…I'll go apologise to her tomorrow."

"Cheers mate. Not worth pissing the women off," Ron said knowingly, sitting up and leaning against the wall, scratching his head. Harry snorted with laughter, idly thinking that it wasn't women he was having trouble with right now…

"How come you've got the map out? Who you stalking nowadays?" Ron asked good-naturedly, interrupting Harry's musings.

"Just people, being nosey," Harry said evasively.

"Mate, is everything OK with you?" Ron suddenly asked, sounding a little uneasy. "You've been freaking out since we got back here…"

Harry stared down the map for a moment, returning to watching the small dot labelled Draco Malfoy which was currently walking slowly up an aisle in the library, pausing periodically, probably to look at a book on the shelves.

"It's strange," Harry said carefully after a while. "I was so caught up in defeating Voldemort I didn't think about what life would be like afterwards…"

"You're not enjoying it now?" Ron asked.

"If I'm honest, no. Not right now," Harry said glumly. "Everyone's treating me so differently."

"And that's why you've been doing your very best to get into trouble?" Ron asked shrewdly.

"How did you know that?" Harry asked, giving Ron a weak smile.

"Oh come on. Losing books, turning up late, trying to break Malfoy's neck in defence…" Ron said with a shrug. "It's not that difficult to work out. None of the teachers will say anything to you."

"You've no idea how frustrating it is, all I wanted was to be treated like everyone else…" Harry trailed off.

"If I were you I'd take it, after everything you've been through you really do deserve a break."

"I had a break when the school was being rebuilt," Harry said. "And now, I just want a normal life."

"You're Harry Potter, mate. A normal life for you is going to be hard to come by," Ron said a little sadly.

Harry gave Ron a sad smile. "Don't I know it."

 

* * *

 

"Come on, Harry!"

Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him down the steep hill, tripping and stumbling on the uneven grass.

"Malfoy, wait!"

Harry stumbled, and Draco turned to look at him, laughing breathlessly, still running down the hill, never once loosing his own footing.

"Malfoy, please!" Draco let go of Harry's hand and kept running, pulling ahead of him, still laughing, the wind whipping and pulling at his blonde hair and clothes, the red and gold tie at his neck whipping over his shoulder.

"Why are we running?" Harry shouted, his heart pounding as he tried to keep up with Draco, the wind snatching the words out of his mouth and tossing them away.

"Because that's what you do now, you run!"

Draco turned, grabbing hold of Harry around his waist and spinning him round, both of them staggering and laughing, tripping over each others feet, falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Harry seized Draco's wrists and hauled him to him, pulling the boy on top of him, resting his hands on his waist as Draco leant down, his forearms either side of Harry's head, his fingers threaded into the grass. Above Draco Harry could see the purple sky and the clouds racing across it, oblivious to everything below them.

"You know I love you," Draco said, staring down at Harry intensely and Harry nodded and leant up slightly to press his lips against Draco's-

"AAGH!"

Harry sat up wildly, his arms thrashing as he tried to disentangle himself from his blankets, his fringe plastered to his forehead with sweat and his breath coming in gasps.

"Bad dream?" Ron asked groggily from the other side of the room and Harry jumped a mile.

"Wha- oh yeah. I'm fine," he gasped, slowly lying back down, his muscles trembling.

"Try and get some sleep," Ron yawned. "We've got to meet H-H-Hermione and Ginny at ten for Hogsmeade."

Harry didn't reply and presently Ron started to snore softly again, deep in slumber. Harry cursed under his breath as he laid back down on his bed, rubbing his forehead in agitation. This was the fourth night in a row Malfoy had climbed into his head in his dreams but this was the first time anything like _that_ had happened.

And Harry knew bloody well _why_ it had happened. It had been five days since Draco had nearly kissed him and whilst Harry had refused to entertain the notion that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to kiss him, he had followed him obsessively on the Marauders Map, telling himself it was so he could avoid the blonde and any other potential near kissing situations.

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, trying not to think about the way Draco looked in the dream- the laughter, the smile, the pure excitement and energy radiating from him-

 _No._ Harry told himself a little hysterically. He was not about to start thinking about Draco like that. He was _not._ Draco was good for fighting with. And that was _it_.


	6. Chapter 6

"God you look tired. Were you two up all night gossiping again?"

Harry tried to give Ginny a withering look but was impeded by the yawn that forced its way out of his mouth. She laughed and shook her head, passing him a mug of coffee down which he took gratefully.

"Hermione, is there any way of controlling what you dream?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Oh, so _now_ you want to control what you dream?" Hermione asked from opposite him at the Gryffindor breakfast table, sounding highly amused. "We could have done with that, ooh, I don't know, four years ago?"

"Oh ha, ha," Harry said tiredly. "If today is going to be another 'let's all bully Harry' day-"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, sobering up and giving him an affectionate smile. "You having bad dreams again?" she asked, sounding concerned enough to mollify Harry's disgruntled feelings.

"Yes," he said. "Very, very, _very_ bad dreams."

"Well trying Occlumency would be your best bet- yes I know," she said impatiently as Harry pulled a face. "But calming your mind before you sleep would probably help."

"Nope, not trying that again, I'll just get reminded of Snape and that's not something I really want in my head before I sleep," Harry said as the others laughed. "Anything else?"

"Not really, other than dreamless sleep potions. I mean, it's your subconscious that's in charge of dreams, it's very tricky to shut down certain parts of it and not others so it's virtually impossible to say I want to dream about this but not this. It's all or nothing I'm afraid."

Harry swore. He had prepared for bad news but it was still a blow; he was getting worried about the strange turn his dreams had taken and was hoping for a solution that would enable him to ban Malfoy from his head.

"Come on, eat something," Ginny said, nudging him with her elbow. "We want to get going."

"Do I have to go?" Harry asked half-heartedly.

"Yes," Ginny said firmly. "If only to get away from everyone in here."

"Fine," Harry said, seeing some merit in her words. He reached out and grabbed a piece of toast and thought glumly about the day ahead. It would be just _fine_ if they were going as a bunch of friends but he knew that wasn't the case anymore. Harry was happy for Ron and Hermione, he really was. They balanced each other out; Ron didn't get as grumpy anymore and Hermione was noticeably more relaxed and Harry was infinitely grateful for that as well as for his friends' happiness.

The only thorn was Ginny; now Ron and Hermione were an official couple she seemed to think that the time was ripe for her and Harry to follow suit. Six months ago Harry would have been totally on board with the idea but now something had changed.

He quickly busied himself with eating jam on toast, torn between probing his own feelings to find out what was going on, or burying them so deep in himself and ignoring them so he'd probably need therapy in six months.

As Ginny turned and smiled at him, he chose the latter.

 

* * *

 

Harry felt weak with laughing, coughing slightly as he tried to draw breath. Tears were running down Ginny and Hermione's faces and Ron sat back, grinning and raising his bottle of butterbeer as the other three continued to laugh.

Despite his initial reservations, Harry had had a good day. Ginny hadn't said anything untoward or pushed him for anything and he had been able to believe it was just like old times when everyone was just friends and nothing was complicated. Obviously, the charade wobbled a little whenever he caught sight of Ron and Hermione holding hands or kissing, but he could just add that to the list of things he was ignoring at the present moment.

They were currently holed up in the Hogs Head under the watchful eye of Aberforth, in a secluded corner away from prying eyes. They had tried the Three Broomsticks but Harry had been instantly swamped by a wave of witches and wizards all wanting to shake his hand and congratulate or thank him so had made a hasty departure without even making it to the bar.

"So, anywhere else you want to go?" Harry asked as he managed to stop laughing.

"Yeah, I wanted to nip into Quality Quidditch, need some new gloves," Ron said and Harry nodded.

"OK, well we'll finish these and then go if you want," Hermione said and the other three nodded in agreement.

"Hey, did you two know that Harry's got a secret admirer?" Ron said suddenly and they all turned to look at his grinning face, Hermione frowning slightly, Ginny looking intrigued and Harry confused.

"Harry's got a lot of admirers, have you seen the fan mail he gets?" Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"I do not get fan mail," Harry argued.

"Yes you do, you just don't read it, there's a difference," Ginny teased.

"This secret admirer is someone we know," Ron said, nodding impressively. "Someone in our year."

"What?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Ron looked back at Harry, as if Harry should know _exactly_ what he was talking about. "I know you've noticed!"

"Who?" Hermione and Ginny asked together as Harry shook his head, picking up his bottle of Butterbeer and planning on extending his list of things to be ignored to include Ron.

"Malfoy!"

Harry promptly gagged on his mouthful of butterbeer, coughing violently. Ginny thumped him on the back looking alarmed and Hermione looked at Ron like he'd just turned into a Blast-Ended Skrewt and back.

" _What?_ " she asked as Harry massaged his chest, his eyes watering.

"He's been _staring_ at him all week," Ron offered as way of explanation. "Hasn't he, Harry?"

Harry managed to nod, praying his choking fit would cover the flush that was rising in his neck as he remembered Malfoy nearly kissing him.

"See?"

"What? That doesn't mean he fancies Harry!" Ginny exclaimed.

"You didn't see the _staring,_ " Ron insisted.

"That just means that he still hates me," Harry said, his voice hoarse.

"If you insist," Ron said with a theatrical sigh, winking at Harry. "I still think he's a-"

"Even if Malfoy _was_ gay and fancied Harry," Hermione cut across Ron quickly. "Why is it relevant anyway?"

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked despite himself.

"Well," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. "You're straight. And even if you weren't I think you'd have better taste than Malfoy."

Harry buried his face in his hands, wishing the ground would swallow him, feeling mortified, embarrassed and confused all at the same time.

Opposite him, Ron shuddered. "Yeah, he would. God, imagine kissing Malfoy."

 _No, no, no, don't imagine kissing Malfoy_ , Harry silently begged his brain, folding his arms across the table and burying his head in them, making Ginny giggle.

"You're traumatising him with all this talk of kissing Malfoy," she said, making Harry want to kick her under the table.

"Seriously," Ron's voice said. "If you ever go gay Harry, I will disown you if you kiss Malfoy."

Harry heard Hermione stifle a laugh before Ginny spoke up indignantly. "Harry is not going to _go_ _gay_ ," she said, and Harry nearly jumped a mile as her hand slid onto his thigh under the table, unseen by the others.

"We're talking hypothetically," Ron said. "That'd get you into trouble, mate," he added and Harry lifted his head to look at Ron quizzically.

"If you hooked up with Malfoy," Ron repeated. "That'd be a sure way to get you into trouble with _everyone._ God, imagine that. People would _explode._ "

"Shut up, just shut up," Harry groaned and the other three laughed. "I told you I wasn't coming if you bullied me today."

"You love it," Ginny grinned, squeezing his leg and making Harry nearly choke again.

He busied himself with his drink as the other three thankfully moved on to discussing Seamus and Lavender Brown's new 'relationship', his own thoughts preoccupied with thinking about Ginny and the hand that was still on his leg.

It should have been new and exciting and his heart should have been racing and he should have wanted to reach out and put his hands on her, but he simply didn't. There were no urges, no exciting feelings about her, no illicit daydreams. The thoughts he'd had on lockdown were fighting tooth and nail to get free of their restraints and Harry realised that he couldn't keep them in, he had to-

The restraints broke. Harry gave in and immediately he imagined himself sat here but with someone else by his side; a tall, thin Slytherin with blonde hair and grey eyes, and in his mind that someone shifted imperceptibly closer to him and a pale hand with long slender fingers slid into his knee.

His heart pounding, Harry imagined the hand sliding further and further up his leg and oh God, that was more than exciting, his mouth had gone dry and in his thoughts Draco leant over and his lips ghosted over the skin on Harry's neck and he shivered-

Horrified, Harry slammed the lid back on the box of thoughts but the damage was done. It wouldn't shut, words kept creeping out, whispers of Draco and boys and Harry shook his head violently as the word _gay_ echoed around his mind.

"You OK Harry?" Ginny asked him, sounding curious, and he started.

"Oh, yeah," he said, brushing his fringe out of his eyes.

"Has Ron traumatised you?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Yes," Harry said fervently. "Well and truly."

Harry was getting desperate. Why couldn't he like her? She was pretty, funny, one of his best friends, everyone wanted it, expected it, why couldn't he?

The pieces were trying to force themselves into place in Harry's head but he wouldn't let them- he couldn't. He was still lost in his thoughts as they all finished their drinks and got up, pulling coats and gloves back on, and he barely noticed Ginny slipping her arm through his as they left the building.

His lack of motivation to sort things out with Ginny, his lack of experience with girls, his traitorous mind's thoughts about Draco fucking Malfoy- all pieces trying to fall into place and he refused to look at the finished picture they made-

He was so busy thinking he didn't notice the person walking the other way along the main street of Hogsmeade and despite Ginny's cry of alarm he walked straight into them, sending the person tripping over.

"Getting used to pushing me over? It's getting old, Potter," the quietly fuming voice of Draco Malfoy made Harry snap back to the present, his stomach giving an unpleasant lurch.

Draco was sat on the floor, glaring at Harry for all he was worth. Blaise Zabini grabbed Draco and hauled him to his feet, also sending Harry a disgruntled look. For fucks sake, the Universe hated Harry today, of all the people he could have walked into it had to be Malfoy; it was like one huge cosmic joke at his expense.

"Sorry," Harry began, his voice not working properly as his eyes were drawn to Malfoy's lips, the very same ones he'd thought about pressing against his neck-

"Oh I'm sure. Twat." Draco retorted angrily.

"Hey, he said sorry!" Ginny flared up from next to Harry.

"Push off," Draco snapped at her. "This has nothing to do with you!"

" _This?"_ Harry asked in disbelief. " _This_ isn't anything! I bumped into you, it was an accident-"

"I'm sure," Draco said with a raised eyebrow. "If you keep pushing me to the floor Potter, I'm going to start getting ideas."

Harry froze, staring Draco in the eye, his anger building as Draco smirked, his eyes locked with Harry's and burning. Harry realised with a sickening jolt that that fucker knew, he _knew_ what Harry was feeling, how the hell did he fucking know-

"All I'm saying," Draco said airily, shoving his hands in his pockets and his knowing eyes still on Harry's. "Is that if you wanted me on my back, Potter, all you had to do was ask-"

Harry had lunged at Draco, fuelled by anger, humiliation and frustration and had grabbed hold of him as Hermione shrieked and two hands grabbed him, trying to pull him off, he was punching Draco in the chest and stomach, and Draco was trying to kick him and had a handful of Harry's hair-

"ENOUGH!"

Harry felt himself ripped forcibly away from Draco and turned to see Professors McGonagall and Flitwick coming out of the Three Broomsticks, McGonagall's wand pointed at them both.

"What on Earth is this about?" she demanded. "Eight years and you two are _still_ fighting?"

"We-" Harry began but he was quelled with a stern look before she turned to Malfoy.

"Mister Malfoy, you know full well the terms of your probation, and if your behaviour continues the way it has been, you will be asked to leave the school, and you know the consequences of that," she said sharply. "Detention, Monday."

"I've got one on Monday from you anyway," Draco said sullenly, wiping his lip on his hand and checking for blood.

"Oh," McGonagall paused. "Tuesday then. Mister Zabini, take him back up to the castle immediately."

Zabini nodded and he and Draco left without a backwards glance, disappearing from view quickly.

"Harry," McGonagall said, turning her gaze on him. "I don't know what is happening with regards to Mister Malfoy and his behaviour, but _don't_ let him provoke you."

"I started it," Harry admitted. "I punched him first."

"After he was mouthing off-" Ginny broke in angrily. Harry turned and saw her and Ron standing next to him, Hermione hovering a little way behind looking worried.

"Yeah, but I still shouldn't have-" Harry argued.

"No, you shouldn't have. Certainly not when you are in Hogsmeade representing the school." Professor McGonagall said archly. "Now be on your way."

"What?" Harry asked slowly.

Ron grabbed his sleeve. "Leave it," he muttered. "Let's go."

"Why don't I get detention? It wasn't just Malfoy fighting-"

"Mister Malfoy has received detention because he knows full well that he should _not_ be doing anything to get himself into trouble, especially when the Ministry has tabs on him-"

"This isn't about that-" Harry shouted. "That's the rules, it shouldn't matter who it is, fighting gets you an automatic detention!"

"Harry, go back to school," McGonagall said firmly.

"No, I fucking won't!" Harry yelled.

Two pairs of hands seized him and hauled him along the street away from the Professors; he saw Ginny on one side of him and Ron on the other.

"Harry, what are you playing at?" Ginny asked as she let go of him once they were out of view of the Three Broomsticks, on the path that led back up to the school. "Do you _want_ detention or something?"

"Yes!" Harry bellowed, making Hermione step back in alarm. Ginny held her ground though. "I want them to treat me like they do everyone else! I started that fight, I should-"

"You should be happy that you didn't get in trouble for that!" Ginny cut across him, sounding exasperated.

"You're missing the point," Harry said.

"No, I'm not," Ginny argued. "You deserve a break for once in your life after everything you had to do-"

"Ginny's right, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You should be grateful-"

"What, grateful that I'm being treated differently?" Harry asked.

"It's positive discrimination-" Hermione began.

"Which is _still_ discrimination!" Harry fumed. "Ron gets it, tell them."

Ron looked alarmed at being drawn into the fight and held his hands up in a defensive pose. "I do get it mate, but there's not a lot you can do, is there?"

"So you don't think Harry should be rewarded for everything he did?" Ginny rounded on Ron.

"Well yeah, but if he wants to be treated normal, then that's what-"

Harry didn't register the reply Ron received. He was sick of this, he was well and truly fucking fed up and he had to do _something,_ something to make them stop treating him like a hero-

The answer came to him so suddenly and effortlessly it was like being struck by lightning. Whether inspiration or madness, he couldn't really tell, but he knew it would work- it was just so insanely _perfect_ -

"Where are you going?" Hermione called after him as he abruptly turned and walked away from the still bickering pair of Weasleys.

"Back. I'll see you later," Harry called over his shoulder without looking back.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later and Harry found himself outside the door of the room Draco and Blaise shared, hammering on it with his fist. It unlocked with a click and he shoved it open, walking in and seeing that Draco was by himself, lounging on his bed with a book in his hand and his wand pointing at the door.

"Come to finish that fight, Potter?"

"Shut up. Where's Zabini?" Harry asked shortly, pushing the door shut behind him.

"With Theo and Pansy," Draco said, dropping his book and lowering his wand, putting it on the bedside table. "Said something about me being ridiculous for getting another detention and walked off."

"You are ridiculous for getting another detention," Harry said as the Slytherin stood up, stretching languidly and running his hands through his hair, leaving it ruffled. "That's six since we've been back."

"Jealous?" Draco said, giving Harry a smirk.

"Yes," Harry said honestly, staring at Draco unashamedly. His heart was pounding and his legs felt a little unsteady. Ron had only being joking in the Hogs Head with his comment about the one way Harry would get in trouble, but he had been right and had unwittingly offered Harry the solution on a shining silver platter.

"Why are you here?" Draco asked him, a frown starting to creep over his face.

Harry didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on Draco's mouth, and he couldn't tear his eyes away, he _had_ to do this-

"Potter? Why are you looking at me like-" Draco began but before he could finish Harry had taken the three steps necessary for him to be close enough to press his body flush against Draco's, had taken his head in his hands and kissed him square on the mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

_Oh god, if being gay means I get this, I don't care…_ Harry thought dazedly as Draco tensed in shock for a moment before making a noise that sounded like a stifled groan, grabbing Harry around his waist and kissing him back, their lips moving together.

It stopped all too soon; after only a few tantalizing seconds Draco suddenly pulled himself away, his hands still gripping Harry's waist and his chest heaving. "What are you doing?"

"Getting into trouble," Harry replied shortly, leaning in to kiss him again. Draco didn't let him though, turning his face away and frowning.

"You know if anyone finds out you did this you'll be _murdered_."

"That's the point," Harry said. "And this way, we both get what we want, right?"

Draco eyed him suspiciously for one long moment and then moved; his hand made to slip into Harry's pocket and Harry jumped, grabbing Draco's wrist. Although if he were honest, the idea of Draco having his hands in Harry's trousers was an interesting one at least…

Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry slowly let him go, still tense and unable to completely relax. Draco slipped his hand into Harry's pocket and pulled out his wand, pointing it over Harry's shoulder, the door locking with an audible click.

Harry swallowed as Draco tossed his wand away onto Blaise's bed, looking at Harry with slightly narrowed eyes.

"And is this what you want?" he asked quietly. Harry could taste Draco's breath, the blonde was that close.

In reply, Harry leant forwards and kissed him again. _Yes, yes oh fuck yes…_ he thought fervently as Draco deepened the kiss, their tongues tentatively touching for the first time.

Harry experimentally slid his hands down Draco's back, feeling the muscle and hard lines beneath his hands, allowing Draco to control the kiss. It was different, but it felt oddly right and his body seemed to agree as Draco kissed him harder, his tongue sliding into Harry's mouth.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat and he allowed Draco to push him backwards, walking him towards Draco's bed and they were toppling back onto it, Draco laid on top of Harry just like he had been in Harry's dream…

A warm hand was stealing down Harry's side, stealing under his T-shirt and gliding up his ribs. It went as high as Draco could reach and then back down again, and Harry grabbed hold of it before it reached the waistband of his trousers.

Draco groaned against Harry's lips. "Potter-"

"No," Harry panted. "I'm not- _oh-_ not ready for-" Harry trailed off as Draco pressed hot kisses along the side of his neck.

"Shame," Draco murmured, his fingertips tracing circles on Harry's skin even with Harry's grip on his wrist preventing him from moving it any lower. "Wish you were-"

"Hang on, what?" Harry said, his brain sharply shaking itself out of its kissing-induced fog in the wake of Draco's words.

"Oh come on. You know I'd happily do all sorts of dirty things with you right now," Draco said, still kissing Harry's neck.

Harry felt a rush of something seemed to be terror mixed with intrigue rush through him, making him tremble. Kissing Draco was doing funny things to his brain and undoubtedly making him ridiculously aroused but to go further with him-

"You don't hang about," Harry gasped as Draco gently bit on his earlobe.

"Why would I?" Draco whispered in Harry's ear, his tongue coming out to trace the shell of his ear, making Harry moan and writhe on the bed.

"Well this is all kinda new to me," Harry struggled to say.

"Don't worry Potter," Draco said, sounding amused. "I'm not going to force you."

"It's not that I don't- I mean I've never thought about-"

"Just shut up," Draco advised him, shutting Harry up himself by leaning down and kissing him again. Even though fairly terrified by Draco's words, Harry didn't hesitate to slip his hands under Draco's shirt to touch the warm skin of his back, eliciting a moan from the Slytherin.

Well that response was certainly nice- Harry ran his hands firmly up Draco's back and stifled a groan as Draco flexed his body against Harry's in response. The hand on Harry's waist moved lower again and he jerked away slightly, just enough for Draco to notice.

"So you're allowed to touch me but I'm not allowed to touch you?"

"You said you would force me," Harry replied breathlessly.

"I did," Draco replied, eyes narrowed.

"And you like being touched?"

"Oh fuck off," Draco replied, leaning down to kiss Harry hard again. Harry grinned against Draco's mouth before kissing him back properly, before proving his point by sliding his hands down Draco's back over his trousers to cup his arse.

Draco drew his breath in sharply and then he audibly gasped as Harry experimentally squeezed.

"Fuck that, Potter- if you keep groping my arse I'm going to do obscene things to you whether you like it or _not_."

Harry's laugh was muffled by Draco once again kissing him hard, their tongues meeting again and Harry's hands resuming their wandering.

This was good- this was Harry in control and that was less frightening and overwhelming than lying back and letting Draco be in charge. Although Harry somehow knew that Draco wasn't going to push him for anything he didn't want to do yet, even if Draco were to be in control. He had a funny feeling that this experience was just as important to Draco and he wasn't about to ruin it by scaring Harry off.

A small irrational part of Harry wished he _would,_ that Draco would just rip his clothes off and do what he wanted with him, to use him and mark him and to not hold back. However, the rest of his brain gently reminded him that Draco wouldn't hold back because he was _Harry Potter_ , but rather because as Harry himself had said, Harry was simply new to all of this.

It was minutes, or maybe hours, later that Draco ghosted one last kiss onto Harry's lips and looked up at him from where he had ended up on his back with Harry laid on top of him.

"See. Knew you wanted me on my back."

Harry shoved at him and Draco laughed, pushing Harry off of him so they were laid side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

"Yes, because _I'm_ the one that's been fancying _you_ for years," Harry said pointedly.

Draco pulled a face at Harry but didn't reply.

"How did you know about me anyway? You did know, right?" Harry asked him.

"That you were gay?" Draco asked and Harry nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "I just guessed. Noticed some stuff."

"How long have you known about you?" Harry asked, choosing not to query Draco's somewhat vague and borderline suspicious answer.

"About…six years. Maybe seven," Draco shrugged.

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "No way! How the hell did you know when you were that young?"

Draco hesitated, and then seemed to mentally shrug before speaking. "My Mother kept talking about arranging a marriage for me, a suitable match, you know how it goes in Pureblood circles," he said with a small rueful smile. "I threw the biggest fit, I just hated the idea of a _girl_ being in my bed."

"Wow," Harry breathed.

"Yeah," Draco agreed. "At least I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut and not ask Mother if it would be OK to have a boy in my bed instead."

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it. Neither could he help warming to this guards down, friendly and complaint version of Draco.

"Did you?" Harry asked hesitantly, looking at Draco who raised his eyebrows in question. "Ever have a boy in your bed?"

"No," Draco said. "But I've been in plenty of other boys beds," he smirked, making Harry laugh again.

"How come no-one here knows then? Have you been with anyone here? "

"You think I'm an idiot?" Draco frowned. "I'd never do anything _here,_ it's just too close. Like if I slept with anyone here everyone would know and then I'd have to see them all the time and it'd get awkward."

"So no-one knows?" Harry asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm pretty sure a lot of people know. They just don't care or choose to gossip about it," Draco shrugged. "I mean, Pansy sulked for like a week when she found out and realised that it meant I wouldn't be sleeping with _her._ Not that I would anyway even if I _was_ straight." he added somewhat bitchily. "But she didn't kick off about it, or tell everyone, as far as I'm aware."

"I can't believe I didn't know," Harry admitted. "Especially if you-" he stopped abruptly.

"If I liked you?" Draco finished, his tone teasing. "I didn't _like_ you as such, I just wanted you and knew I couldn't get my own way."

"So you resorted to being a complete twat?" Harry finished.

"Just about," Draco said with a nod.

"So…how many beds have you been in?" Harry asked curiously.

"Four," Draco replied promptly. "Although one was in a field, so it's only three if you're bring strict about the bed thing."

Harry gaped at him, lost for words. "You had sex in a _field_?"

Draco started to laugh again. "God, your face. You look more confused than usual," he paused, seeing Harry still gaping at him. "Stop that," he said, reaching over and poking Harry in the chin so he shut his mouth.

"You didn't," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at Draco.

"I most certainly did," Draco retorted. "Field sex is great."

"When?" Harry demanded.

"When I was in France when I was fifteen," Draco replied shutting his eyes and putting his hands behind his head, nearly elbowing Harry in the head in the process.

" _Fifteen?_ " Harry asked, gobsmacked.

"Yeah, just coz you're still a virgin doesn't mean we're all inexperienced idiots too," Draco said, although his words carried no malice. Or less than usual anyway. "I used to go on holiday with Mother a lot, to the Châteaux in France. She'd host her dinner parties and I'd steal myself a bottle of wine and sneak off."

"Sneak off to have sex in fields." Harry said, amused.

"Only the once, for Gods sake Potter," Draco said impatiently. "You're obsessed with the bloody field thing."

"Just curious," Harry admitted.

"How about you then? How long have you known about you?" Draco asked him suddenly.

"About an hour and a half," Harry said honestly.

Draco moved quickly, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow, looking down at Harry intently.

"And I'm the first-"

"Yep."

Draco paused and then leant down, his lips hovering over Harry's. "I like that," he whispered, his eyes sparkling and a smug smirk on his face.

"Just because you can brag about being the guy who turned Harry Potter gay," Harry said and heard Draco laugh again. It was a nice sound, especially considering Draco was laughing with him and not at him.

"So let me get this straight…figuratively," Draco said and Harry laughed. "You're using me to test the waters with your new found homosexuality and to also piss off your friends?"

Harry immediately flushed. "Well, I- no" He stammered. "When you put it like that…"

"I'm fine with that," Draco said with an elegant shrug of his shoulders and Harry grinned at him.

"You're not so bad, you know," Harry mused, idly running his hand up Draco's arm.

"Don't push it. I like kissing you but I'll still slap you without thinking twice," Draco threatened.

"Yeah I know. I'm fine with that," Harry smiled and Draco rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss Harry once more.

"Can we keep this between us for now?" Harry murmured between kisses.

"Thought you wanted to get in trouble?" Draco asked.

"I'm liking the prospect of maybe…experimenting," Harry said carefully. "And for now just imagining the trouble is good enough."

"Good," Draco replied and then he was kissing Harry in a way that made his toes curl and his body shiver in pleasure. He had never been kissed like this, not ever. A small part of his brain still wondered how he had ended up in this position with _Draco Malfoy_ , but then Draco gently bit on his lip, his fingers running up Harry's neck to cup his face and Harry wasn't thinking about anything else at all.

 

* * *

 

Harry dropped back onto his bed, exhausted, reaching out to take his glasses off and dropping them on his bedside table. He had only just left Draco's room, scarpering before Blaise Zabini came up for the night.

His mind was whirling, and he had to try and sort out his thoughts before he had any chance of sleeping. But what the hell to think about first?

Draco, obviously. His intention with kissing him today had been an act of rebellion against the world, something to get himself into trouble. It was unthinkable that the great Harry Potter, the Chosen One, would be consorting with another man, and an ex-Death Eater to boot, and that's what made it so perfect.

He had walked away with so much more though. He had walked away with someone who understood how he felt, in the sense of discovering he was…He rolled the word gay cautiously around his head and was relieved to find it felt mostly OK, not overly scary or wrong. If anything, it came with a slight sense of relief, although it would undoubtedly cause chaos when it all came out.

He couldn't believe his luck either, in managing to catch hold of Draco in an agreement they would continue doing whatever it was they were doing, namely fucking around. If he thought about it- and now he bloody well was going to let himself- Draco Malfoy was a very attractive individual. Harry had been fascinated by the feel of a hard, smooth body under his hands, the muscles under Draco's skin and the strength with which Draco had pulled him close and couldn't wait for more.

Harry shivered at the memory, rolling over and grinning into his pillow. He felt uplifted and excited in a way he never had, and knew he'd been missing out on this before. He felt a surge of envy for Draco, who had worked himself out years ago and managed to have fun, have the physical connections with people, the experiences…

Harry blew his breath out and sat up, leaning down and pulling his shoes and socks off. This morning felt like years ago; he had come so far since then. He was still frustrated with everyone and everything but now he had this lifeline- a sarcastic, attractive, pain in the arse lifeline- to help him through.

He was still smiling when sleep claimed him.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry could barely tear his thoughts away from Draco over the next week. He couldn't believe how sharp a turn his life had taken, but he wasn't going to worry about it, well not that much anyway. It was unbelievable really, that he had ended up in agreement with none other than Draco Malfoy, but in a strange way it made sense. If anyone was as fucked up as Harry, it seemed to be Draco, and it was comforting being not alone in his messed up world.

Ontop of that, his daydreams now seemed to consist entirely of kissing-Draco-Malfoy scenarios and Harry found he was just fine with that. In fact he liked it nearly as much as he had liked the real thing and that was saying something.

Ron and Hermione kept noticeably closer to him in the week following his shouting match with Professor McGonagall but he didn't begrudge them for it. On the contrary, he relished the time they spent together as a trio, time which was improved vastly by his own better mood. He also now took secret delight in the way Draco continued to watch him, with a glint in his eye that made Harry shiver pleasantly every time he caught Draco looking at him.

It was a week later in a History of Magic lesson that Harry got anything more than glances from Draco. He was sat next to Seamus who was fast asleep with his head in his arms, occasionally twitching as he dreamed. Harry was contemplating joining him or drawing on him, he'd not decided which, when a blank piece of parchment floated from behind him and slid onto his desk, neatly covering his own which he was supposed to be making notes on.

He turned around and saw Malfoy sat next to a dozing Blaise Zabini, looking directly at him. Draco mouthed ' _wait',_ and picked up his quill.

Harry looked back at his own parchment and waited with anticipation, and sure enough words materialised at the top of the sheet in green ink.

_Boo_

Harry turned round and grinned at Draco who flipped him two fingers in reply.

 _How have you done that?_ Harry wrote back eagerly.

 _Magic._ Was the single word response and Harry smiled, about to reply when more words started to form in Draco's neat cursive script.

_So, seven whole days and you've not been back for more? Changed your mind?_

Harry resisted the urge to turn and look at Draco, instead writing back quickly. _Course not. Just been taking some time to think about everything, and trying to exercise some self control._

Next to him, Seamus gave a sleepy grunt and Harry hastily wrapped his arm around the parchment just incase the Irishman woke up and saw what he was writing, or even worse, guessed exactly _who_ he was talking to.

_I think I'd like you without the self control._

Harry grinned again. _I'll bet you would. If you're that desperate why didn't you come find me?_

_I'm not desperate_

Harry wrote back quickly, inwardly cursing his previous choice of words. _I know, I didn't mean that- but I reckon you're as up for more as I am._

His boldness was rewarded; he turned and stole a glance at Draco who was looking down at the parchment with a smile on his lips. Harry saw his quill move to the paper again and quickly turned back to see what was being written.

_This is on your terms. You're the blushing virgin here, you're the one that's got to set the pace._

Harry frowned. _Why me?_

_Because if I set the pace we'd be fucking right now_

Harry nearly swallowed his tongue, feeling a flush rise in his neck and his heartbeat quicken. If Draco had said that to him outright…he honestly didn't know how he'd react. He cautiously wrote back, half hoping for Draco to explain in great detail just what he meant and half hoping Draco would tell him he was joking.

_What, right now?_

_Yep. Right on this desk._

Harry's mind started to wander, his quill held limp in his fingers and his eyes wide, imagining the classroom empty, imagining him and Draco stood kissing fiercely, the blonde pulling open his school shirt and pushing him back onto the desk-

Seamus twitched next to him and Harry hastily forced himself to stop imagining. He probably should stop anyway; whilst he had sort of accepted how things had turned out and liked the thoughts of kissing, he wasn't sure he was comfortable with thinking along _those_ sort of lines.

_Desk sex? Better than field sex?_

The reply made his eyes widen and the flush on his neck deepen. How the hell could he stop from thinking about it when Draco wouldn't let him? He stared down at the four words, once again feeling petrified and eager and curious and desperate.

_We should find out._

He was still staring at them when more words formed underneath it.

_I bet you're imagining it aren't you? Us alone in a room somewhere doing all sorts of dirty things_

Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry. He decided honesty was probably his best policy.

_I am actually. How do you know these things?_

Draco's writing was becoming less neat, as if he were rushing to get his words on the parchment.

_Because I know you Potter. And right now I'm guessing that you'd love for me just to take control for once, pin you down and fuck you till you can't think straight but you're too nervous_

_Of course I'm nervous. It's only been a week-_ Harry stopped writing, wondering how to explain how he was feeling. Draco's words were undoubtedly arousing and incredibly exciting but Harry was still struggling to keep all his feelings under control and not get carried away. He needed to take this at his own pace, needed to be the one that was still in control. Before he could try and get that into words, more of Draco's were forming.

_It's only words, just enjoy them. Stop being so scared. You know I'll go at your pace._

Harry breathed out slowly, feeling reassured but with his heart still hammering. _I've hardly dared think about anything like that_

_Do it. Don't be scared of your thoughts, no-ones going to know right? And maybe if you let yourself think you'll get more comfortable with it more quickly_

Harry rubbed his face with his hand, worrying slightly about how much Draco seemed to understand him. He didn't pick up his quill before Draco was continuing writing.

_How about you think about you fucking me over a desk instead of me fucking you. I bet that's a lot easier to comprehend, you getting me on my back and being in charge. Or getting behind me, whatever's good_

Harry's eyes were once again wide behind his glasses as he read Draco's words, swallowing thickly. Unbidden, an image flashed across his mind; Draco underneath him, his pale skin covered by Harry's body, his legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck. He imagined Draco's lips pressed against his ear, begging him to take him harder, whispering filth to him and letting Harry hold him down, his hands pressing down hard on Draco's hips as he thrust into him again and again- Harry felt arousal stirring rapidly in his groin, hot and heavy and had to shut his eyes and press his fingertips onto his eyelids, pushing his glasses up out of the way, willing his body to behave. When he finally opened his eyes, more words were underneath the last.

_Merlin, I can see you blushing from here. Your imagination must be good. Meet me in the Quidditch locker rooms at 8 tonight and you can tell me all about it_

Harry paused, wondering what to write back when two words were added to the end of the sentence.

_Desk optional._

Harry snorted with laughter and carefully rolled up the parchment, turning to look at Draco and giving him a brief nod, the Slytherin nodding back in acknowledgment before turning away. A second later, the bell rang and Seamus jerked himself out of his stupor.

"Did I miss owt?" he asked dazedly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Honestly, I wasn't really paying attention," Harry said, trying to bite back a grin and failing.

 

* * *

 

"Harry!"

Harry had barely made it out of the History of Magic classroom and was looking forwards to having the afternoon off to laze around and maybe start doing his Charms essay, when he found himself face to face with Ginny Weasley.

"Come for lunch with me?" she asked, smiling brightly. "I've not seen you since Hogsmeade."

"Yeah, sure," Harry said before he could really register what was going on. He turned round to try and locate Ron and Hermione and spotted them halfway down the corridor, stood face to face and bickering about something. He gave a grin, deciding to leave them to it. It shouldn't be too bad with Ginny anyway, it wasn't like anything could happen or be said in the packed Great Hall during lunch.

"Get out the doorway, Potter, you're holding us up," a drawling voice came from behind him. Harry started and saw Draco standing behind him, looking bored.

"Sorry," he said hastily stepping out of the doorway and allowing the remainder of the class to leave. Draco brushed against him on the way out and sparks shot through Harry's skin where the backs of their hands had touched, leaving him momentarily dazed.

"What is his problem with you?" Ginny asked him, scowling, making Harry shake his head and return to reality.

"He's Draco Malfoy," Harry shrugged. "He has a problem with everyone."

"I heard about you two fighting," Ginny said as they walked towards the Great Hall side by side. "He should be kissing your shoes after you saved his life-"

"He saved mine too," Harry reminded her. "As did his Mum."

"Still, he should be grateful," Ginny said.

"He is. In his own special stupid way," Harry said absently and Ginny gave him a sharp look.

"So are you two…friends now?" she asked.

"Not really. We don't hate each other, but we get along I guess…anyway, what have you been up to?" Harry asked her, hastily changing the subject away from Draco, unable to keep his mind from lingering on the piece of parchment that was still in his bag.

* * *

 

 

 _This was a stupid idea…_ Harry thought vaguely. He had anticipated eating with Ginny in the Great Hall, having a laugh and chattering together but he had allowed himself to be swept out of the Hall for an impromptu picnic down by the lake. Undoubtedly Ginny was trying to recreate the hours they had spent together in sixth year but had unwittingly placed them not two feet away from the spot where Draco had almost kissed Harry all that time ago, and that was what played on Harry's mind even as Ginny leant into him, resting her head on her shoulder.

"So who's Slytherin playing seeker?" Ginny asked.

"Don't know. I know it's not Malfoy, he's not allowed to play," Harry shrugged.

"Good," Ginny grinned. "Serves him right."

"Ginny," Harry admonished half heartedly. "He's not allowed to play incase anyone tries to curse him, that's not funny."

"It is kinda," Ginny shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear and sitting up straight, looking at Harry carefully.

"What?" Harry asked her and then immediately wished he hadn't, knowing full well why she was looking at him like that; she leant forwards slowly and he was frozen in place trying to think of some sort of excuse or reason not to but he couldn't think quick enough- oh _shit,_ she was way too close, and then she had gently placed a kiss on his lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away and turning to rest back against his side.

"So who else could Slytherin play then?" she asked casually.

"Erm…no idea," Harry said, staring out over the lake, his eyes wide and repeating a steady mantra of four letter words inside his head. It looked like he was well and truly heading for trouble now...

 

* * *

 

Draco was bored. Very bored. Blaise was still furious with him for his behaviour of late and as such was giving him the silent treatment. Pansy was still mad with him for calling her fat for stealing his blueberry muffin at breakfast. And Theo, well, angry-Draco made Theo nervous and Draco rarely got out of angry-Draco mode lately so Theo was giving him a wide berth.

He was contemplating getting off his bed and going to find the others and saying some vague sort of sorry so he wouldn't have to spent the whole evening alone, but before he could do much more than contemplate it, he heard a soft knocking on his door.

"What?" he called lazily, expecting Pansy, hoping for Blaise.

"Malfoy it's me. Let me in."

Draco sat up sharply, eyeing the door suspiciously.

"I said eight O' Clock, you're a bit eager aren't you?" he called.

"Malfoy, let me in," Harry repeated.

More curious than he'd like to admit, Draco picked his wand up and unlocked the door, standing up and folding his arms as Harry came in, looking flustered. He shut the door behind him then walked across the room so he was close enough for Draco to reach out and touch if he wanted. Draco wanted very much; he had been thinking about Harry non-stop since their note swapping session earlier, although Draco idly thought that thinking about Harry had been on his agenda for years.

"Just- punch me in the face or something, fight with me, please, I don't care-" Harry said, breaking Draco's train of thought.

Draco eyed him, taking in Harry's rumpled appearance, how he was almost panting, his hands clenched into fists at his side, looking thoroughly desperate and fuckable and he was here for Draco, he needed Draco-

"I've got a better idea," Draco said and reached out, grabbing Harry by the wrists and pulling him to him, kissing him firmly before the dark haired boy could argue.

Harry made a 'mmf' noise in surprise, tensed up for a second, and then relaxed, kissing Draco back soundly. As Draco sought out Harry's tongue with his he could practically feel the tension and misery rolling away from him, loosing himself in frantic kisses instead that were threatening to make Draco abandon control entirely.

Harry's hands were sliding down Draco's back and Draco's breath caught as they slid firmly over his arse, exploring every inch of him. Draco certainly hadn't been expecting _this_ from the boy who had stammered and blushed his way through Draco's messages earlier…Draco felt himself being pushed backwards and he gladly complied; climbing awkwardly back onto his bed and pulling Harry with him.

"Thought you didn't have boys in your bed," Harry panted.

"You're different," Draco said, grabbing Harry's head in his hands and pulling his glasses off, tossing them away before kissing him as hard as he dared, pressing his body up against Harry's and feeling delight rush through him as he felt Harry's erection pressing against his own. He experimentally rocked his hips into Harry's, the motion small enough to be ignored if Harry so wished; instead Harry gasped into Draco's mouth and grabbed hold of his arse again, pressing Draco into him harder.

"Oh, _God_ ," Draco groaned as Harry continued to circle his hips, rutting against him without shame. This was unbelievable, after years of pure _want_ he finally had Potter here where he wanted, and he didn't care about the circumstances or the reasons; he was just taking and giving without question.

His trembling fingers found their way to Harry's belt; suddenly he couldn't stand the clothes that were in his fucking way, and Harry wasn't stopping him-

He pushed Harry back violently, sending him sprawling onto his back on the bed, and reached down and pulled Harry's trousers open. Harry propped himself up on his elbows, watching him through half lidded eyes, his breathing heavy.

"Relax," Draco said, pushing Harry back down. Harry swallowed thickly as he laid back with his head on the pillow but didn't make any moves to get up again. "Stop thinking, just feel," Draco instructed and Harry nodded, his eyes fluttering shut. Draco smiled, and leant down, lifting Harry's shirt out of the way and pressing a kiss to Harry's abdomen, the smile widening as Harry twitched beneath him, his hands fisting in the bedcovers.

He pressed another kiss lower, and another, and his long fingers curled around the top of Harry's boxers, pulling them down slightly and kissing the newly exposed skin.

" _Fuck,_ " he heard Harry whisper above him and smiled. _Not today…_ he thought to himself, gently kissing Harry's skin again and easing Harry's boxers down, leaving them around his thighs along with his trousers.

 _Wow…_ Draco thought, eyeing Harry carefully before giving into the desperate urge inside him and leaning down and nuzzling against Harry's cock, breathing in his scent and making him cry out in a beautifully strangled voice.

Draco had done this before, on more occasions than he cared to admit, but never before had he wanted to do it so well, to reduce Potter to a quivering wreck so he wouldn't ever dream of going to anyone else. He gently flicked his tongue against the very tip of Harry's cock, savouring both the taste and the whimper that escaped Harry's lips before taking him fully in his mouth, holding Harry's hips down as his back arched off the bed and his hands fisted in Draco's hair.

It took less time than expected for Harry to completely let go of his inhibitions and Draco revelled in it; the way Harry's hands clenched unconsciously in his hair in the same rhythm that his hips pumped slightly upwards, pushing himself into Draco's wicked mouth, profanities and endearments falling from his lips in equal measure.

Draco doubled his efforts, sucking and licking as hard as he could and was soon rewarded; Harry was shaking, his whole body trembling and he was pushing Draco down that bit harder and his hips were jerking-

"Fuck, Draco, I'm going to-"

He didn't finish the sentence before Draco felt one hand leave his hair and Harry let out a muffled cry, presumably covered by his own hand, his other hand holding Draco firmly in place as he came, thrusting violently upwards with a gasp that sounded like a sob before falling back onto the bed, spent and exhausted.

Draco placed a kiss on Harry's thigh and slowly wriggled back up the bed, smirking in satisfaction as he saw Harry's flushed face, his eyes still closed.

"Alive?" Draco asked, reaching out and gently slapping Harry on the cheek.

Harry jerked his head away and then opened his eyes, looking at Draco and then away. "Sorry," he muttered. "I kinda lost it-"

"Shut up," Draco said firmly. "Did you enjoy it?"

Harry looked at him like he was insane. "Of course I did!"

"Well then, what's there to be sorry about?" Draco said a little impatiently.

"I got rough, I didn't mean to-" Harry began.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I happen to _like_ rough sex, Potter. And believe me, it's _so_ much more fun doing that when the person receiving reacts like you do."

"Really?" Harry asked and Draco nodded.

"Knew I'd like seeing you lose control," Draco said slyly, somewhat ruining the effected by yawning widely, his jaw cracking loudly.

Harry leant up on his elbows again so they were nose to nose, looking at Draco intently. "What's it like, doing that?" he asked.

"Takes a bit of getting used to, but if you've got someone who reacts well, it's brilliant," Draco said.

"You sound like its better to give than receive," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes it is," Draco shrugged.

"What's it taste like?" Harry asked quickly. Draco looked at him and he blushed but didn't look away, determined not to come across as scared anymore-

Draco reached forwards and put a hand on the back of Harry's head, leaning in and kissing him, slipping his tongue into Harry's mouth, feeling rather than hearing the moan that slipped out of the Gryffindor, pulling back only when he needed to breathe.

"Like that," he said with smirk.

Harry kissed him again and Draco made a noise of contentment, allowing Harry to push him onto his back and control the kiss, thrills running through him as a hand stole down his chest and over his stomach, fingers tracing over the button on his trousers.

"I hate to have to stop you but I have no idea when Blaise is coming back," Draco groaned as Harry started kissing along his jaw.

"But don't you…I mean it's only fair…" Harry said, his fingers still on the button of Draco's trousers.

"I know you just can't wait to get your hands in my trousers but if you want to keep this secret, you better go. You can owe me," Draco said.

Harry still looked unsure. "But-"

"Believe me, there's nothing more I want than to get mine, but I do not want to have to explain to my roommate why I've got a half naked Harry Potter in my bed," Draco said and Harry laughed.

"Fine, if you insist," Harry said, reaching down to pull his trousers back up, doing his belt up quickly and standing up.

"I'll send you a note or something," Harry said hovering by the door, rifling through his bag to check his invisibility cloak was there.

"That parchment still works if you've still got it," Draco said, not getting up from the bed. "You can wipe it clean and send me a message over that."

"Alright. See you soon," Harry said, reaching for the door handle.

"Oh, and Potter?" Draco said casually.

"Mm?" Harry asked, turning to face him.

"I should tell you," Draco paused. "You're most _definitely_ gay."

Harry swore at him and slipped through the door, hearing Draco's laugh just before it closed. Harry gave in and smiled, shaking his head as he pulled the invisibility cloak over his head, thinking vaguely that Draco was right.


	9. Chapter 9

"Oi!"

Harry jerked his eyes open at the sound of a shout, squinting at the blurry figure that had just come into his line of vision from where he was laid on his side on his bed. He groped onto his bedside table for his glasses and shoved them onto his face, Ron coming into focus as he did.

"What? What time is it?" Harry asked, sitting up and yawning, running his hands through his hair and rubbing his face. He had found himself feeling completely drained after leaving Draco's room and had given into impulse and fallen asleep on his bed the moment he got to his own room, not caring about what time it was or the work he had to do.

"Half seven. Why are you asleep?" Ron asked curiously.

" _Was_ asleep, until you woke me up," Harry grumbled good-naturedly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, was just wondering where you had got to," Ron said. "Everyone's hanging out in the common room for a bit, thought you might like to join us."

"Yeah, think I will," Harry said gratefully. A small smile crossed his face as he remembered the events of earlier and he had to hold himself in check to stop himself grinning like an idiot. He was thoroughly enjoying the giddy rush that his illicit affair with Draco was providing, filling him up with a strange sort of warmth that made him want to laugh out loud for no reason. And the sexual aspect of it…well he wasn't going to be complaining about _that_ anytime soon.

"What're you smiling about?" Ron asked him, grinning. "About earlier by any chance?"

Harry froze, staring at Ron. How the _hell_ could he know about earlier? And if he somehow did, why was he bloody smiling about it?

"It's OK mate," Ron said, sounding amused. "I'm OK with it, as long as you don't shove it in my face or anything."

"What?" Harry stammered, still not moving a muscle, feeling bewildered and slightly panicked.

"You and Ginny? She said you'd been for lunch by the lake…" Ron said, beginning to look slightly perplexed.

"Oh!" Harry said, relief flooding through him. For one mad moment, he really thought Ron had been talking about him and Malfoy. "Yeah, we did."

"Good," Ron said, sounding relieved as well. "Maybe she'll stop harping on about it now."

"What?" Harry asked again, standing up as Ron moved towards the door.

"Well, not harping on as such," Ron said, giving an apologetic shrug. "She's just been hoping for you to get your head together for ages…she talks about it a lot."

"Well, I've not, I don't know-" Harry tried to say as they descended the spiral staircase.

"You seem better," Ron said, not turning to look at him. "Since you had that fit in Hogsmeade, you've chilled out loads."

"Well yeah…" Harry said lamely.

"Amazing what a good distraction can do, eh?" Ron laughed.

Harry held his tongue, imagining just what Ron would say if he found out Harry's distraction wasn't his sister as everyone thought, but a certain hated Slytherin boy-

"Harry!"

For the second time that day Harry heard a familiar voice shout his name and his stomach dropped; Ginny was there, sat in an armchair opposite Seamus and Lavender. Hermione was on a sofa and once Ron joined her that would make two couples and then Harry and Ginny. Great.

Harry made himself keep walking, mentally murdering Ron for not mentioning this before he got downstairs, his eyes automatically scanning the common room. His stomach dropped another several notches as he saw Draco was there, sat on the other side of the room with a book in his hand and his feet on a desk, eyeing Harry carefully. Fantastic, another one of the Universe's jokes at Harry's expense; having to sit with the girl who wanted him whilst the boy he wanted and wasn't allowed sat just across the room.

Harry tore his eyes away, willing his brain not to think about what had transpired between the two of them earlier and instead forced his attention to Ginny. "How did you get in here?" he asked, hovering for a moment, unsure of where to sit.

"Snuck in," Ginny said with a smile, pulling her feet up onto the chair, a clear indication for Harry to sit in front of her at her feet.

 _Fuck._ Harry thought uncharitably as he moved to sit where everyone was expecting him to, not feeling at all happy about it because firstly he didn't want to give Ginny anything that she could read anything into and secondly, sitting there would put Draco directly in his line of vision.

"Oh," Harry said, sitting down and looking resolutely at the wooden legs of the sofa Hermione and Ron were sat on so that he didn't have to make eye contact with _anyone_.

"You not impressed?" Ginny asked, nudging him with her foot.

"What? Oh, yeah," Harry said.

"Hopeless," Ginny said fondly, reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder. The touch felt wrong and alien to him; after the way Draco had handled him earlier it felt too light, too hesitant. Draco had grabbed him and held him in a way that conveyed his belief that he had every right to and that's what Harry wanted, what he needed.

He couldn't help it any longer; ignoring the conversation around them he looked up at Draco and saw the Slytherin still sat with his feet on the desk, but now the book was held up in front of his face and he seemed to be shaking in an odd way-

Harry blinked, realizing that Draco was _laughing;_ hiding behind his book trying to conceal his amusement which Harry knew was at his expense. The bastard knew that Harry had got himself backed into a corner by Ginny and he was finding it fucking _funny_. Harry felt his previous nervousness at the blonde being near replaced with a desire to punch him in his stupid face.

"So did you two have a nice lunch?" Hermione's voice cut across the low level chatter between Ron, Seamus and Lavender. The question was directed at Ginny and Harry, the latter of whom having to carefully remind himself that Hermione was his best friend and he really shouldn't throw anything at her.

"Yeah, it was," Ginny said, squeezing Harry's shoulder gently and smiling. Harry didn't look around at her but shifted uncomfortably where he was sat, the euphoria from his earlier encounter with Draco now well and truly wiped away by the combination of Ginny's misguided attempts to get them back together and Draco sat not twenty feet away, being an utter _twat_.

"Oh, aye?" Seamus said, grinning. Harry half-heartedly thought that he shouldn't really throw things at Seamus either.

"Shut up," Ginny said with no real conviction, trying and failing to hide her own smile.

There was an outbreak of catcalls, whistling and laughter from the group and Ginny flushed, smiling happily. Harry hid his face in his hands.

"You're embarrassing him, call it off for a moment," Seamus called humorously.

Harry wasn't embarrassed, he was _mortified;_ a sentiment that intensified rapidly as Ginny leant forwards, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering ' _ignore them',_ in his ear with a smile on her lips. He could smell her flowery scent and it was horribly off-putting; he used to love being close to her and breathing it in but now it was all wrong, especially when compared to the rich, clean, now familiar scent of _boy_. Harry shuddered, he couldn't take this anymore-

"I'm going," Harry muttered, making to stand up.

"Oh Harry, come on. They're only messing, don't go," Ginny said, letting go of him regardless as he climbed to his feet. Harry was irrationally seized with the thought that Draco wouldn't have let go: he would have dived off of the sofa and pinned Harry to the floor by sitting on him and telling him in a no-nonsense tone of voice that he wasn't going anywhere. As the thought flicked through his mind and he wondered just how the hell he knew that, his eyes flicked up towards Draco again. He saw with a jolt Draco had lowered the book away from his face and was watching him, the laughter gone but an amused smirk still on his face.

"You should get going, Gin, before anyone finds you up here," Harry said suddenly, turning to look at her for the first time since he'd sat down.

"What?" Ginny asked, looking confused.

"You'll get in trouble for being up here, I wouldn't put it past some people up here to rat you out," Harry said with a shrug.

She glanced over at Malfoy who Harry noticed was suddenly and miraculously sat with his eyes on his book, straight faced and completely uninterested in anything else going on in the room. As Harry watched Draco delicately licked the end of his finger before turning the page of his book, the suggestive action making Harry flush and hastily look away.

"OK," Ginny said with a sigh. "You want to come with me?" she asked, her eyes locked on his and loaded with suggestion.

"No, I've got some work to do," Harry said, averting his gaze and turning back around. "Actually I better go and get on with some of it now…sorry," he added half heartedly and before anything else could be said he left, ignoring everyone on the way. _Especially_ Draco who once again had his trademark 'I'm thoroughly amused at Potter's discomfort' smirk firmly in place.

Harry had barely shut the door to his room when it was flung open again; Ron and Hermione followed him in, the former looking annoyed and the latter a little put out.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked brusquely.

"What?" Harry asked, deciding to feign innocence and ignorance.

"Ginny," Ron said, sitting on his bed. "She's just went, she looked gutted that you just got up and left."

"Sorry," Harry said. He meant it, he really did; he didn't mean for Ginny to get caught up in this mess, but she hadn't backed off even as Harry had continued to show nothing but disinterest. What more could he do?

"Sorry?" Ron asked, an eyebrow raised. "You're messing her about mate, you're gonna need more than sorry."

"Well I don't have anything," Harry said tiredly.

"What?" Ron asked, standing perfectly still. Behind him Hermione was chewing her lip nervously.

"Look, I haven't done anything to make her think we're getting back together-"

"You're not back together?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Not as far as I'm aware," Harry said, feeling a sudden and sharp sense of foreboding.

"She thinks you are," Ron said flatly.

"Oh, God." Harry collapsed down onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. This was so _unfair_ and suddenly he was aware that everything had flown straight out of his grasp, beyond his control. It wasn't about getting into trouble anymore, that irritating problem had been suddenly eclipsed by the mess he'd landed himself in.

What was Ginny thinking, making assumptions like that based on no evidence whatsoever? Well, no more evidence than one awful, bland kiss that he hadn't even responded to. Furthermore, that one bland kiss had been obliterated by the following encounter with Draco, the most intense sexual encounter he had ever experienced.

Misery was welling up inside Harry with disconcerting strength and speed. He knew Ron and Hermione were watching him, waiting for a response. _Tell them, just tell them…_ he silently pleaded with himself inside his head. But what to tell them? How did he tell his best friends of eight years that he had abruptly realised he was gay, and had come to this realisation after several illicit encounters with none other than Draco Malfoy, their hated childhood enemy?

The selfish side of his brain won out. He wouldn't tell them. Even though Draco had proved himself to still be a sadistic bastard who still thoroughly enjoyed seeing Harry in hot water, he was _Harry's_ snarky, sadistic little secret and he didn't want to give him up, not yet.

He was a little taken aback by the force of that desire but it was one of the few steady thoughts in his brain that he felt he could be certain of. He still wanted Draco; he wanted him so badly it was making it impossible to think straight and he wasn't going to give that up by coming clean with the rest of the world.

He felt the bed dip next to him and an arm wrap around his shoulder, gently hugging him. He didn't move; he didn't dare incase he cried or shouted or something. There was a sigh and a hand clapped on his shoulder.

"Sorry mate, didn't mean to get shitty with you…I know it's been tough."

"You have no idea," Harry muttered.

"Well…can you, like, fix it?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Harry muttered into his hands.

The hand on his shoulder clapped down heartily once more. "Good. Thanks mate. Well, I'm going to go back down…you coming 'Mione?"

"No, I'm going to sit here for a moment, I'll be down in a bit," Hermione said and Harry heard the quiet sounds of Ron leaving the room.

"Come here," Hermione said quietly, pulling him around with gentle but insistent hands and enveloping him in a hug. He hugged her back tightly, feeling suddenly exhausted again.

"You going to tell me what's going on?" Hermione asked, gently playing with his hair with her fingers.

"Wish I could," Harry said, pulling back.

"You've been so different," Hermione said, brushing his fringe out of his eyes and looking at him, concerned. "This whole thing with wanting to get into trouble- you never used to get this angry about being treated differently."

"Before it wasn't this bad, I mostly got treated normally but now the war's over I thought it'd be _all_ over…It's OK." Harry trailed off, shaking his head. "That's all done."

"You're over the getting yourself into trouble thing?" Hermione asked slowly.

"I think so," Harry said. "I seem to be attracting enough by myself."

"And have you given up on fighting with Malfoy?"

Harry jerked his head up at the sound of Malfoy's name, seeing Hermione's gaze fixed on him with a small smile on her face.

"Definitely not," he said and Hermione gave him a half hearted shove.

"It's been eight years. I'm amazed after everything you haven't managed to make any progress."

Harry barely restrained the snort of laughter that wanted to break free at Hermione's words. Oh, they'd made progress all right. "We have," he said honestly. "But he still manages to wind me up like no other…"

"I had noticed," Hermione said, shaking her head before standing up. "You coming back down? Ginny's gone," she added with a guilty smile.

"Is Malfoy still there?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione said warily. "He upped and left down into the castle about a minute after you did."

"No then. I'm going to go find him and punch him in the face," Harry said, standing up beside her.

"Harry! You can't just punch Malfoy every time you get wound up!" Hermione said, exasperated.

"Better him than anyone else, right?" Harry laughed, heading to the door and slipping through it, giving her a grin and a wave on his way out.

"Boys," Hermione sighed, left alone in the room feeling rather bemused. "And you say we're the complicated ones."

 

* * *

 

"And I suppose you think that was really funny?" Harry asked the figure that was leant against the sinks that were in the far corner of the fourth floor boys' bathroom, his voice echoing slightly against the stone over the sound of running water.

Draco reached out and turned the taps off before turning around slowly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Pretty funny, yeah," he said, flicking his hair out of his eyes and a smile breaking over his face.

"How the hell was that funny?" Harry asked, walking across the room and over to Draco. He knew from checking the Marauders map that the bathroom was deserted except for Draco and given the time of day it probably would remain so for a while.

Draco gave a short laugh and pushed himself away from the sinks, slowly taking a step towards Harry. He reached out and gently ran his fingertips down the side of his neck and Harry shivered, unable to push him away even though he were still angry. "Because it was," Draco said finally, his voice alight with vindictive pleasure. "You're as gay as me and no-one has even noticed, and they're trying to set you up with that _girl..._ "

"You're a dick," Harry said, jerking his head away from Draco's touch, movement spurred by Draco's words.

"I know," Draco said indifferently, as if he'd heard it a thousand times before. Knowing Draco, he probably had.

"I just couldn't help laughing…" he stepped closer to Harry so their bodies were touching. Their eyes met again and Harry couldn't look away. "Seeing the Weaselette touching you, trying to get you to react…" he was leaning in, his lips ghosting the side of Harry's neck and Harry was tilting his head unconsciously to the side to give him better access. "When we both know that you only get that kind reaction…" he kissed Harry's neck just below his ear and Harry gasped quietly, the sound magnified in the cavernous and empty room. "From me…"

Draco gently bit down on Harry's neck before continuing. "Or other guys, if you've decided to expand your horizons and go elsewhere…" he shrugged and resumed his assault on Harry's neck, biting and kissing alternately.

"Malfoy-" Harry breathed.

"You really want me to stop? This is what you came looking for me for, right?" Draco asked.

Harry had to shut his eyes. This blonde menace he currently had his arms wrapped around already knew way too much about him; Draco was under his skin and could somehow read him like a book.

"You'll leave a mark, if you keep biting me like that," Harry said when his voice would obey his mind, tilting his head sideways and forcing Draco away from his neck.

Draco didn't miss a beat, switching sides and kissing the other side of Harry's neck instead, speaking between more delicious kisses. "And? That'll get- you in trouble- for sure."

"No, not yet," Harry said, his eyes finally fluttering shut and his hands wandering down Draco's back of their own accord.

Draco pulled away of his own volition, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "This isn't about getting into trouble anymore, is it?"

"Yes," Harry lied. "I'm just not ready-"

"Bollocks," Draco said scornfully. "You're-"

Harry didn't want to hear what Draco was going to say, he didn't want Draco to tell him more things about him that he hadn't even had chance to guess at himself, so instead he seized Draco and kissed him hard, pushing the blonde back up against the sinks.

Draco seemed to appreciate the rough handling, letting a grateful moan slip into Harry's mouth as they kissed, and Harry just managed to get his hand under Draco's shirt and down the back of his trousers when they heard the unmistakable sound of the door opening and laughing voices coming inside the bathroom.

"Shit!"

Harry seized Draco and pushed him sideways into a cubicle, squeezing in beside him and pulling the door shut behind them. He put his finger over his lips and Draco nodded, his hands stilling on Harry's waist, their bodies pressed together as they listened.

"-and she just looked at the Boggart and started crying!" one of the voices was saying, the other laughing in response. Harry would guess the owners of the voices were probably second or third years.

"Well that's Hufflepuffs for you," a scornful voice replied. "Idiots."

Next to Harry, Draco started laughing, his shoulders shaking. Harry was simultaneously trying to hold his own laughter back and shush Draco, trying to put his hand over Draco's mouth. Draco pushed Harry's hand away and leant forwards instead, burying his face in Harry's shoulder to muffle his laughter as the boys outside continued talking.

There were the sounds of taps being turned on then off and then the boys left the bathroom, the room becoming eerily silent as the door swung shut. Harry let out his breath that he had been holding and Draco started to laugh; Harry held back for a brief moment and then laughed too as the sheer absurdity of the situation hit him. They laughed long and loud until Draco started to cough and the laughter finally subsided, Draco pulling back away from Harry's shoulder, still grinning and his eyes sparkling.

His eyes caught with Harry's and the grin slowly faded. Harry was suddenly very aware of how close they were together and how Draco was now looking at him. It wasn't the hungry, lust filled look that Draco normally employed; now it was quieter and more cautious but still full of want- and Draco was slowly edging closer, his eyes flicking between Harry's eyes and his lips. Time seemed to suddenly slow right down and Harry could see Draco right in front of him as if he'd never really noticed him before despite everything that had happened-

Harry's heart was in his mouth- this was different, this wasn't how he and Draco usually worked. Normally it was fierce and unrestrained and fuelled by anger and lust but now...he wasn't sure what this was except it was exciting and it was new and Draco was still _looking_ at him- He moved forward by fractions too, his breathing heavy as Draco moved the rest of the way and their lips gently touched.

The kiss was slow and unhurried, their tongues tentative and their hands gentle; Harry reaching up to thread his fingers into Draco's hair and Draco's hands tracing gentle lines across Harry's back.

As they slowly kissed, forgetting about everyone else outside of the small battered cubicle on the fourth floor, Harry had a vague thought that this was one of those moments in life to be noticed, captured and remembered. The thought fluttered for a split second but it was small and was quickly lost, floating away with the dust that was visible in the light that poured in through the window of the bathroom, far above their oblivious heads.


	10. Chapter 10

"Good news!"

Every head in the common room looked up and around simultaneously as Hermione Granger came up the staircase into West Tower, beaming and holding a scroll in her hand.

"McGonagall has given all of us permission to spend this afternoon in Hogsmeade if we want," she said and the common room burst into cheers and clapping. "Eighth years only, and we've got to be back by six," Hermione called over the hubbub, walking over to join Harry and Ron.

"Why doesn't Malfoy look happy?" Ron asked and Harry flicked his eyes towards Malfoy who was sat in his usual corner with a book in his hand and a scowl on his face.

"Oh, he's not allowed to go," Hermione said. "He got himself two more detentions this week. If he carries on the way he is, he's going to get thrown out of school."

"You really think?" Harry asked. It was almost a whole week since he and Draco had kissed in the bathroom on the fourth floor and he hadn't been able to snatch any time to speak to the blonde since.

"Yeah, McGonagall had a word with him just before I went to see her," Hermione said quietly. "She's furious with him."

"Poor git," Ron said. "Proper fucked himself up hasn't he?"

"I'd say so," Hermione said. "Right. Harry, you coming?"

"No," Harry said before he could stop himself. "I don't really feel like it."

"Why, what's up?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Don't feel well," Harry lied, hoping they wouldn't ask any more questions.

"If you're staying to pick a fight with Malfoy-" Hermione said, her eyes narrowed.

"What?" Harry asked, distracted. "No, course not! I don't feel great, I'm going to go sleep all afternoon," he said firmly.

"Go and see Ginny," Hermione suggested. "She's got last session free, you've not seen her in a while."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said noncommittally. "I'll see how I feel."

Around them, the common room was emptying, most of the eighth years taking advantage of McGonagall's offer and heading out into the crisp autumn air for some well earned time out of the school.

"Well just take care of yourself," Hermione said, giving him a warm hug. "Have a lie down and if you still feel rotten later, go to Madam Pomfrey."

"I will," he assured her, kissing her temple before letting her go. "I'll see you later, have a good time."

"See you later mate," Ron said, giving him a clap on the shoulder. "I'll bring you back some Honeyduke's stuff."

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling at his friends before they left to collect hats, scarves, gloves and coats against the cold air. He sank down onto one of the sofas in the common room, his legs dangling off the edge and his eyes drifting shut. He heard the last few voices chattering and leaving the room and was idly wondering who had opted to stay behind when a voice cut through the silence of the room.

"If I remember rightly, you owe me one, Potter."

Harry grinned, opening his eyes. From where he was laid he couldn't see Draco as the back of the sofa was in the way so he sat up, scanning the common room quickly. Satisfied that they were the only inhabitants left, he laid back down.

"What a pity that you're all the way over there then," Harry said lazily, his eyes flickering shut once more.

"Guess again," the voice drawled, a lot closer this time. Harry opened his eyes and saw Draco leaning on the back of the sofa, looking down on Harry with a smile on his lips. He moved before Harry could reply, climbing over the back of the sofa and sitting over Harry's waist, his knees either side on him and his palms resting on Harry's chest.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, looking around the common room once more and feeling a little alarmed. "What if someone comes back?"

"Then they'll see Harry Potter learning how to give an awesome blowjob," Draco leant down and breathed in his ear, making Harry shiver. The thought was fascinating and definitely arousing, not revolting as Harry would have automatically expected to feel even a few short weeks ago. Truth be told he had spent a lot of time lately thinking about what it would be like to give as well as receive, as well as what other sexual exploits with Draco would be like. Safely hidden behind the curtains of his bed late at night, he had let his imagination roam where it pleased.

Draco placed a kiss on Harry's neck, his tongue hot against his skin, and then another, then another. "Malfoy," Harry said, battling to keep his eyes open. "Upstairs."

Draco pulled back, flicking his fringe out of his eyes. "You're no fun," he pouted, but climbed off of Harry nevertheless, reaching out a hand to pull Harry up. Harry leant down to grab his bag and Draco didn't let go of his hand as they walked across the common room and up the staircase to Draco's room.

Nerves hit Harry in a delicious rush as they reached the oak door at the top and he felt his pulse increase and his temperature raise as he thought about what he were about to do. His memory was full of when Draco had gone down on _him_ and he was eager to repeat the experience.

Once they were inside, Draco turned to shut the door and Harry boldly stepped up behind him, slipping his hands over Draco's hips and feeling the bony ridges underneath his thumbs. Draco froze where he was and Harry reached up and gently pulled Draco's collar to the side and leant down to kiss the juncture where his shoulder met his neck.

Shivers coursed through Draco and Harry felt them with elation; stepping closer to press his body behind Draco's, wrapping an arm firmly around his waist and continuing to kiss up Draco's neck. This felt _good_ , Harry thought as he continued his ministrations and Draco's breathing grew steadily more ragged and his body moved against Harry's. Not that the last encounter hadn't; that had felt truly awesome but now Harry was the one holding some sort of control and Draco had been right; it did feel great- empowering and wonderfully arousing to have someone reacting to his touches.

He stopped thinking and let his instincts guide his movements, responding to Draco's movements and the small sounds that kept falling from his lips, sounds which turned into moans as Harry gently bit on his earlobe and slid one hand down across his stomach and lower to firmly cup Draco's erection.

"God, you're brave today aren't you?" Draco asked breathlessly, shifting his hips forwards to press himself harder into Harry's hand.

Harry didn't reply, instead letting go of Draco and turning him around by his shoulders, kissing him soundly.

"How brave are you feeling?" Draco murmured against Harry's lips, reaching down to slowly unbuckle his own belt. The gesture set Harry's nerve endings alight and he looked down, his cheek against Draco's as the blonde pulled his belt free and then fingered the button on his trousers.

Harry nodded, his mouth suddenly very dry and the nerves coming in thick and fast. Draco must have sensed it because he let go of his trousers and put his hands on Harry's waist and kissed him, his tongue tracing Harry's lower lip.

"Don't think about it too much," he whispered, pressing a kiss onto the corner of Harry's mouth. "Just go with what feels right, use the reactions. And unless you want me to _murder_ you, watch your teeth."

Harry nodded and stepped forwards, making Draco step back, wanting to be in control again. He put the palms of his hands on Draco's shoulders and pushed him backwards onto the bed, where he lay down with his hands behind his head, watching every move Harry made.

Harry knelt on the bed next to him, his heart hammering against his ribs. He reached out for the buttons on Draco's school shirt but Draco moved quickly, grabbing his hands and shaking his head.

"Leave it on," he said, his eyes locked onto Harry's.

"Why?" Harry asked, confused. He had been looking forwards to exposing that expanse of white skin, running his hands over Draco's lithe body and kissing every bit of it that took his fancy.

"Because. Just for today," Draco said and Harry detected a plea in his words. That was unnerving in itself; the great uncaring Draco Malfoy was asking for something from Harry, had something to hide from him.

Harry nodded and let go of the buttons. Draco watched him a moment longer and when satisfied that Harry wasn't going to try and remove his shirt again, put his hands back behind his head, wriggling into a comfortable spot and his eyes fluttering shut.

Reaching out to pop open the button on Draco's trousers, Harry felt something akin to gratitude that the Slytherin was letting Harry do what he wanted with him. Although, thought Harry wryly, considering what Harry was about to do it probably wasn't that much of a hardship.

Harry pulled Draco's trousers down a little and Draco raised his hips to make it easier. Harry could easily discern the shape of Draco's erection straining against the thin fabric of his boxers, and Harry could feel his own arousal matching Draco's; his cock hardening and pressing against the material of his trousers. He paid it no attention, instead wanting to focus on Draco, who remained laid out with his eyes shut. Harry eased Draco's boxers down and excitement bolted through him. He wondered idly that he must have done some serious suppressing of feelings to have lasted this long whilst ignoring the fact the sight of a cock turned him on.

Reaching out, he slowly ran his finger down the underside, savouring the way that Draco's breath hitched in chest and fascinated by the velvety feel of the hard flesh. Encouraged, he wrapped his fingers around Draco's cock and ran them up and down, the same way he did to himself when wanking.

Draco's whole body was moving now, writhing so slightly atop the bed covers, his teeth worrying his bottom lip and his eyelids fluttering although they remained shut.

Harry slowly shifted and leant down towards Draco's crotch, breathing heavily and taking in the scent which was heavy, intriguing and altogether unique to Draco, before running his tongue slowly across the head of Draco's cock.

That did it; Draco cried out loud and his hips jerked violently and Harry suddenly found that he wanted nothing more than to wring more delicious cries like that from the Slytherin, and be the one responsible for reducing Draco to incoherency. All his nerves were gone as he took the head of Draco's cock in his mouth and sucked as hard as he dared, using his fingers to work the lower half of him.

It seemed to work; Draco let out a breathy moan and one hand came down to thread into Harry's hair, not to hold him in place or push him down, just to have some sort of contact between them.

"Holy shit, Potter," Draco hissed out between clenched teeth, lapsing into a groan as Harry took more of him into his mouth.

It took longer than Draco had done with Harry and Harry had a brief moment of fear, wondering what he'd do if he couldn't make Draco come. He redoubled his efforts, using his tongue the same way he remembered Draco had done with him and was soon rewarded. Draco's thighs were trembling and he was making quiet, broken noises that were turning Harry on even more and Harry opened his eyes and looked up, and saw Draco's eyes were wide open and focused on him, still worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

Their eyes met and Draco let out a strangled cry, his hand tightening in Harry's hair. Harry moved back immediately, Draco's hand leaving his hair and grabbing the bedclothes. He continued to work his hand the length of Draco's cock and watched, fascinated as Draco came; his whole body arching and his hands fisting in the bedcovers.

Harry sat back on his knees, grinning slightly at the sight of Draco looking so thoroughly _fucked_ , his hair rumpled, a flush covering his neck and his clothing all askew. He shuffled forwards and bent down, kissing Draco quickly and making the blonde jump.

"Fuck! Didn't realise you were that close," he said, rubbing his face with his hands, before looking down and pulling a face. "Way to ruin my shirt, Potter," he said half heartedly, reaching over to grab his wand off the bedside table and muttering a cleaning charm before pulling his boxers and trousers back up but not bothering to do them up properly.

"You were the one who insisted it had to stay on," Harry shrugged, sitting on the bed so his back was against the wall, pulling Draco's legs over his thighs, resting his hands on them.

"You were the one too chicken to swallow," Draco replied, draping his arm across his face.

"Oi! Unlike you, I've never done that before," Harry said, squeezing Draco's thighs hard and making him yelp.

"Alright, alright, I'll let you off," Draco said, lying back down flat. "Just this once," he added and Harry smiled, shaking his head.

They lapsed into silence; Draco perfectly content to languish in the post-orgasmic comfort zone and Harry thinking about what he had just done, and how he had liked it more than anticipated.

"You want to sneak off and do something tomorrow night?" Harry asked after a while, gently running his hands up and down Draco's legs.

"No," Draco replied lazily. "Busy."

Harry smiled, continuing to run his hands up and down Draco's thighs from knee almost to his crotch.

"Shouldn't you be sulking, not smiling?" Draco asked and Harry looked up to see Draco had one eye open, looking at Harry a little suspiciously.

"No," Harry shrugged, his hands stilling on Draco's legs. "I kinda like that you sometimes say no to me."

"Oh," Draco said, shutting his eye again. "I guess no one else will, right? And you can keep doing that thing with your hands if you want."

Harry smiled again and resumed his stroking of Draco's thighs, amusing himself with running his hands even higher towards Draco's crotch and back down again, wondering if Draco was thinking he were going to touch him.

"What're you going to do about the Weaselette?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Don't call her-"

"Fine, what are you going to do about girl Weasley?"

"No idea," Harry said, frowning.

"Well…" Draco said in a tone that set Harry on his guard immediately. "I was thinking it might be a good thing that you two look like you're together."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously. "This coming from you?"

"Well, I'm quite keen for this to continue," Draco said in an explanatory tone. "And I'm thinking you're more interested in this than you are getting into trouble right now."

Harry nodded, knowing Draco was right.

"So if people think there's something going on with you and the Ginger shrew, then it'll provide a great cover for us."

"Don't call her that either," Harry frowned. "So you want me to use her?"

"That's a great idea, Potter, why didn't I think of that? If you think that's the right thing to do, well, I'm not going to stop you," Draco said, trying not to smile.

"Prat," Harry said squeezing Draco's legs.

Draco grinned and Harry resumed his ministrations, making Draco wriggle contentedly again.

"It's not _using_ her per se, it's just…making the best out of a bad situation. Don't initiate anything, but if she wants to cuddle up to you, don't stop it."

"If you were any more Slytherin your skin would be green," Harry said, amused.

"Good job one of us is," Draco drawled. "Or this arrangement would never work."

"The only problem is the fact it's Ginny," Harry said with a sigh. "She's not a pushover."

"And you think Pansy was?" Draco asked, opening his eyes to look at Harry incredulously. "If Pansy wants something, you either give it her or get out her damn way."

"I thought she always knew you were gay?" Harry asked.

"Not for a while," Draco told him. "And she was good for keeping my Father happy."

"What's that mean?" Harry asked, interested.

"Well, if we had a family dinner or a ball, Pansy would come along and do the whole simpering girl thing, and then Father could kid himself that his only son and heir wasn't gay."

"Your parents know?" Harry asked. This was all so interesting to hear; previously he had only ever seen Draco as a two dimensional character but now the picture was slowly building up and Draco was becoming more like a person with a family, a history, a personality.

"I'm pretty sure they did. Mother definitely did," Draco said thoughtfully. "But it wasn't one of those things I could discuss at dinner really; they just ignored it and hoped it would go away."

"That's awful," Harry commented.

"That's pure blood politics," Draco replied sharply. "I'm an only child, if I didn't marry and continue the bloodline that would leave the Malfoy name stuffed."

"So you would have had to get married, and have children? If your father-" Harry stopped abruptly, not wanting to upset or offend Draco.

"If my father hadn't ended up dead?" Draco filled in helpfully. "Yeah, I reckon so." He shook his head, adding, "Poor bastard."

"What about now?" Harry asked, feeling a little uncomfortable with the topic of Draco's Father. "What would your Mother say?"

"I don't know," Draco shrugged. "She's a bit manic depressive with me at the minute. One minute she's so happy that I'm still alive, and the next I think I remind her too much of Lucius and she doesn't want me to be anywhere near her."

Harry didn't know what to say. He was first saddened by what he was hearing but that was eclipsed by the bizarre fact it was _Draco_ saying these things, and saying them like he was commenting on the weather.

"Anyway, enough," Draco said. His tone of voice wasn't harsh but it left Harry under no illusion that their conversation about Draco's life was over. "We should be talking about how it was for you giving your first ever blowjob," Draco smirked, sounding much more like his usual self. Harry was a little disappointed; he was intrigued by the glimpse of Draco's life outside of Hogwarts.

He settled himself for rolling his eyes at Draco who had propped himself up on his elbows and was grinning at Harry, looking rumpled, still a little flushed and fucking gorgeous.

"You were right," Harry conceded. "The reactions are the good bit."

"So you've not been put off?" Draco asked.

"Hell no," Harry grinned.

"Good," Draco said, pulling his legs off of Harrys and moving to straddle Harry's lap, gently resting his hands on Harry's shoulders as Harry's hands slid down his back.

Draco looked at Harry and then a smile curved his lips, leaning down slowly to kiss him-

_Thud_

"Oh for fucks sake- he's locked the door again," Blaise's muffled voice came through the door.

Draco and Harry moved as if they had been electrocuted- Harry pushed Draco off of his knee and leapt across the room, grabbing his bag and yanking the invisibility cloak out of it, pulling it over himself and his bag and backing into a corner.

If Draco found it strange that Harry had just disappeared he didn't show it, instead he laid back on the bed with his hands behind his head again, not making an effort to do his trousers back up. Harry was wondering what the hell he was doing when there was a click and the door opened.

Blaise and Theo came in, Blaise with his wand in hand and looking put out.

"Why the hell did you lock me out? What were you doing?" Blaise asked.

"Wanking," Draco replied in a bored voice.

"Oh, for fucks sake Draco," Blaise said, sounding disgusted, his eyes falling on Draco's undone trousers and then quickly averting away. "Remember the days when you used to have some shame?"

"Doubt it," Theo chipped in and Draco shrugged.

"Everyone does it, what's the point in being embarrassed by it?"

"It's one thing being embarrassed, another thing to flaunt it in our faces," Blaise grimaced.

"I _did_ lock the door," Draco said. "You were the one daft enough to unlock it when you knew I was in here by myself."

"Well I thank you for at least stopping," Blaise said sarcastically, shaking his head.

"Well, can you fuck off so I can continue?" Draco said.

Blaise gave him a withering look but Theo made a sharp step back towards the door. "Come on Blaise, you know he'll carry on whether we're stood here or not, and that's not a show I want tickets for."

"Fair point," Blaise snorted. "Go on, I'll grab my gloves and meet you in the common room."

Theo made a grateful exit and Blaise rounded on Draco, pointing at him sternly.

"You need to get out more," Blaise informed Draco. "Stop lying in bed wanking over Potter and _get out_."

Harry nearly choked on air but managed not to make any noise, putting a hand over his mouth and turning wide eyes on Draco, waiting for his reaction.

"Oh blah blah blah," Draco said indifferently. "I love that you're concerned but I'm perfectly content lying in bed wanking over Potter."

"You're hopeless," Blaise sighed. "I'm going to slap you silly one of these days."

"I look forwards to it," Draco said with an affected sigh.

Blaise gave Draco an exasperated yet fond look. "Just do me a favour, yeah?"

"What?" Draco asked, looking up.

"Find some new wank fantasies," Blaise grinned, walking over to his beside table and picking up his gloves. "The Potter in the Quidditch changing room showers one is probably getting old."

Draco reached behind him and grabbed a pillow to hurl at Blaise but Blaise was quicker and ran off, pulling the door shut, his laughter echoing back through the door.

"What a cunt," Draco groaned when the noise faded, his head dropping back to the mattress and pressing his hands over his eyes.

Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off of himself, grinning broadly and walking over to Draco, climbing onto the bed and straddling his waist, reaching out and trying to pull his hands away from his eyes.

"Me in the Quidditch changing room showers eh?"

"Fuck off Potter," Draco said, his hands still clamped over his eyes.

"Oh come on," Harry laughed.

"I will punch you," Draco threatened.

"No you won't," Harry said. "Come on, don't be embarrassed. You handled that well."

"Yeah, but still," Draco said petulantly.

Harry leant down and kissed Draco's lips, grinning even though the blonde didn't kiss him back. Harry kissed him again, trying to coax a response.

"Come on," he pleaded. "I'll tell you what my latest wank fantasy is."

"Does it involve me?" Draco asked, his lips brushing Harry's as he spoke.

"Of course," Harry said, gently biting Draco's lower lip.

Draco was silent for a moment and then spoke again. "I'm listening."

"You know that bathroom we nearly got caught in? On the fourth floor?" Harry murmured.

"Yes," Draco said, sounding interested.

"I imagine we're back in there, and you're got me pinned against the wall, and you get on your knees and suck me off," Harry whispered, kissing Draco and feeling sparks shoot through him as Draco finally kissed him back, his lips moving leisurely and sensually against Harry's.

"Nice cloak by the way," Draco murmured, finally moving his hands to wrap his arms around Harry's neck and kiss him back properly, his tongue flicking out to brush against Harry's. "That makes _so_ many things make so much more sense."

"It's a good job I've got it, that was close," Harry said, shifting to lie down properly on top of Draco, resting his forearms either side of his head.

"Yeah, didn't think anyone would come back," Draco said, shifting a little to get comfy with Harry's weight on top of him. "I take it that's put you off."

"Not at all," Harry admitted. "The risk is kinda exciting, you know?"

"Potter's got a risk kink," Draco smiled, teasing the hair at the back of Harry's neck with his fingers. "Never would have guessed."

"Shut up you," Harry said, pressing his lips against Draco's once more. "There's better things you can be doing with your mouth."

"Filthy," Draco replied, gently biting on Harry's lip.

Harry didn't reply and they fell into kissing, both savouring the moment as they knew all too soon Harry would check his watch and have to leave, without a trace that he was ever there in the first place.


	11. Chapter 11

"Well if you hadn't been so _slow_ -"

"You were on a fucking Firebolt! Anyone was slow next to that!"

"That's a rubbish excuse,"

"If you'd been on a two thousand and one I would have owned you."

"That's right, blame the broom, Malfoy-"

Harry ducked, laughing as a chess piece was hurled his way, missing him and hitting the table leg behind him with a squeal. He sat up, grinning as Malfoy scowled at him, picking up his wand to summon the chess piece.

"I'll give you a race when the weather gets better," Harry said, laying down sideways and propping himself up on his elbow.

"If the weather gets better," Draco grumbled, prodding a knight to make it move across the board. Outside the wind howled and the rain pounded against the windows just as it had been doing on and off for the past week.

"It will, don't worry," Harry said, pulling one of the blankets Draco had transfigured over his legs to keep warm. It was cold in the room they were in; sprawled out on the floor of an old Arithmancy classroom in a barely used wing on the seventh floor.

"Did Zabini and all of your lot go into Hogsmeade?" Harry asked, watching Draco's knight haul one of his pawns off of the board with resigned acceptance.

"Yes," Draco snorted. "Complete idiots."

"Well it wasn't raining when they left, I suppose," Harry yawned, rolling onto his back with his hands behind his head.

"Yeah, but anyone with half a brain could tell it was going to rain- look are you playing or not?" Draco asked impatiently.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned over, quickly scanning the board and moving his Queen across a space. "Think they'll be suspicious that we're both missing again?"

Draco shook his head. "No. After that fight in Potions yesterday I think they'll be more worried we'll kill each other if we're left unsupervised."

"You started that one," Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well you were about to explode, if you hadn't thrown something at me we'd be wiping bits of Chosen one off of the walls."

"You're probably right," Harry mused.

"I'm always right," Draco drawled.

Harry snorted with laughter and shook his head, watching Draco take his move. Halloween was approach rapidly and Harry had spent the past few weeks managing a very careful balancing act: fighting with Draco in public and meeting him in secret whenever they could snatch five minutes together. Today was one of the rare moments that they could manage more than stolen kisses or hurried gropes in spur of the moment meetings; their respective groups of friends had left them behind to battle the weather and go into Hogsmeade, giving them several hours to spend together.

"You want to do something tomorrow? Sneak off somewhere or something?" Draco suddenly asked, sounding casual.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "I thought you were busy?"

"No," Draco said. "Not tomorrow."

"You are, you said you had some work to do with Theo," Harry said, not trying too hard to keep his tone from sounding accusatory.

"I was," Draco said evasively. "Moved some stuff around," he continued as Harry continued to glare.

"Don't do that-" Harry warned.

"For Gods sake, I didn't do it because you're the _Chosen One_ or any of that crap," Draco sneered.

"Then why did you?" Harry demanded.

"Because I'm horny," Draco shot back.

Harry looked at him and Draco glanced up and then they both grinned at each other, relaxing again.

"Well, how about now?" Harry suggested, eyeing Draco suggestively.

"You ready to get caught?" Draco asked.

"No-ones about, they've all gone to Hogsmeade," Harry pointed out.

"That's a point," Draco said, his brow furrowed. "Were the hell do they think you are?" It was simple for Draco; he was once again banned from leaving the castle to go to the village after reducing a pair of first year Hufflepuffs to tears at breakfast in the Great Hall the day before. Harry on the other hand had had to create his own excuse for not following the rest of the school for the day.

"I said I was staying to see Ginny," Harry said, examining the chess board. "She couldn't go in, she's got too much work to do."

"And won't that story fall apart the moment she speaks to them?" Draco asked, one eyebrow raised.

"No, I went to see her earlier," Harry said. "Spent a couple of hours with her and then said I had to go and finish some work too and came here. She's happy, the others are happy and I get to hang out with you. Winners all round."

"You are such a _liar_ ," Draco said, his eyes sparkling. "I quite like it."

"You would," Harry snorted.

"You're quite good at this double life thing," Draco said thoughtfully. "I didn't think you would be."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Harry shrugged.

"I bet I know more about you than you do me," Draco said, his eyes fixed on Harry and the challenge evident in his gaze.

"Go on then," Harry said, sitting up straight, the chess game forgotten. "You say something about me and then I'll say something about you, whoever gets the most, wins."

"Alright," Draco said eagerly. "Right, first one," he paused as if he were thinking. "You're a Parselmouth."

"Everyone knows that," Harry protested. "It's got to be things that the other one doesn't _know_ we know."

"OK, OK. You _like_ being a Parselmouth," Draco said slyly. Harry shrugged, conceding the point.

"You're ambidextrous," Harry said back at Draco immediately. Draco looked surprised for a moment and then nodded. One all.

"Your favourite sweets are chocolate frogs," Draco said.

"Yep," Harry nodded. " _Yours_ are sugar mice."

"Sirius Black was your Godfather," Draco said and Harry nodded, feeling a jolt at the mention of Sirius's name. He wasn't going to dwell on it though, so focused instead on the game they were playing and looking at Draco's eager face.

"You broke your right ankle once when you were younger," Harry said and Draco really did look surprised at that one.

"How do you know that?"

"That's not part of the game, is it?" Harry teased.

Draco looked at him through narrowed eyes for one long moment before speaking again. "You don't like sitting with your back to the door."

Harry had to be impressed with that one; even Ron hadn't quite picked up on that yet and Harry would often have to ask him to trade seats or suffer an entire lesson of feeling slightly nervous and distracted.

"You have an irrational hatred of Ernie MacMillan even though you two have probably never had a conversation or crossed paths in your life," Harry shot.

"It's not _irrational_ , he's a pain in the fucking arse," Draco said crossly. "OK, let me think," he said, watching Harry closely.

"The prophecy that said you had to kill The Dark Lord, could have applied to someone else," Draco said, a gleam of triumph in his eyes.

"How the fuck did you know that?" Harry asked, flabbergasted.

"That's not part of the game, is it?" Draco replied wickedly. "Your turn, what is it…five, four to me?"

"Your best subject is potions, but you know you could be even better if you actually gave a fuck," Harry said.

"Five all," Draco conceded. "You hate blueberries. Six, five."

"And you eat them every morning for breakfast, either in a muffin or on your cereal," Harry immediately shot back. "And you eat chips with _everything_ and get really pissed off if anyone takes food off of your plate. You never sit the end of the Slytherin table that's closest to the teachers table, you used to spend a lot of time sitting underneath the smaller willow by the edge of the lake, you're scared of bats, you hate people walking right behind you…"

Draco was looking at him in wonder and Harry had to smile. "Give it up Malfoy, I could go on all day."

"How do you know all these things? I thought you didn't even like to acknowledge my existence all these years," Draco asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

"Well, your ankle…in Quidditch you always kick off with your other leg even though it's not as strong, and sometimes when you're swinging your feet in lessons, it catches and makes a really horrid cracking sound," Harry said. "It wasn't that hard to work out."

"I was trying to jump down the whole of the grand staircase in the manor when I was ten," Draco told him, sounding a little wistful. "I knew if Father found out he'd be furious because he'd already told me not to do it, so I didn't tell anyone I'd hurt myself for days, which is why it never got fixed properly."

His eyes flicked back to Harry and immediately grew suspicious again. "But how do you know all the other stuff?"

"I spent a lot of time watching you, in sixth year," Harry admitted.

Draco's face fell. Harry immediately wished he could take back the words and make up some sort of lie to stop the sadness that was mingled with shame washing over Draco's face.

"Oh," he said quietly.

"Don't," Harry breathed, reaching out towards him. "Please don't."

"Can't help it you know," Draco muttered, averting his eyes from Harry's outstretched hand.

Harry stood up and stepped over the chessboard, sitting cross legged next to Draco and putting his hand on his knee whilst the other boy looked studiously in the other direction. "Malfoy come on. That was years ago and you were in deep with something you couldn't handle, no-one blames you."

Draco didn't reply so Harry took his face in his hands and pulled him around. "What can I do? Tell me-"

His words were cut short by Draco kissing him fiercely, his lips pressed hard against Harry's. He pulled back, his eyes burning. "Distract me," he whispered. "Give me something that'll make me forget about it, just for a minute."

Harry leant in and captured Draco's lips in a kiss, letting go of his face to pull Draco into his lap by his wrists, running his hands down his back and along his sides.

Draco pressed himself into Harry's body, his legs wrapping around Harry's waist and they were frantically kissing and Harry was very quickly becoming desperately aroused.

"Back to my room," Draco gasped, pulling Harry's hands away from the button on his trousers.

Harry nodded dumbly, standing up and grabbing his bag as Draco vanished the chessboard and blankets with a wave of his wand, grabbing Harry's hand as he turned and all but ran towards the door.

Draco wrenched the door open and barely looked both ways before pulling Harry along after him down the corridor. Harry felt full of adrenaline, and was fighting the urge to giggle- this was one of those times where Draco made him feel fourteen and giddy and reckless and he loved it.

They reached the end of the corridor and Draco looked quickly around the corner, tugging on Harry's hand to tell him the coast was clear. They almost reached the end and were only two corridors over and one staircase up from the entrance to West Tower when they heard voices coming towards them around the next corner.

Harry grabbed Draco and pulled him sideways through a tapestry, ending up hidden in a small alcove, holding onto each other tightly and listening intently for the voices to pass. Three second or first years who weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade by the sounds of things.

Harry had to stifle his laughter and Draco swatted at him impatiently, a grin on his own face.

"Shut up," he hissed, peering around the edge of the tapestry.

"We should really be more careful- Draco, hold up!"

Draco had seized his hand and pulled him out from behind the tapestry, marching along to the staircase they needed to go down. They miraculously met no-one else as they made it to West Tower, running up the spiral staircase, laughing all the while.

"No-one here," Draco called back to Harry as he poked his head up through the hole in the floor that the spiral staircase wound up through into the common room.

"Good, now get moving," Harry grinned, pushing Draco up the last few steps and towards the archway that would lead up to his room.

"Eager, aren't we?" Draco said with a smirk on his face.

"Yep," Harry breathed, his hands on Draco's waist as they stumbled through the door into Draco's room. The door was barely shut and locked before they grabbed each other, kissing heatedly.

Draco's fingers immediately grabbed hold of Harry's jumper and made to pull it over his head but Harry grabbed his hands, shaking his head.

"Not unless yours comes off too," he said.

"No," Draco said, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Harry demanded. He had remembered Draco's refusal to remove his shirt the first time they had been left alone together and it had been no different since; every time Harry tried to take Draco's shirt off Draco would bat his hands away impatiently and guide them a lot lower.

"You know why," Draco said fiercely, his eyes locked on Harry's. Harry thought for a moment and then the reason came to him quickly and effortlessly as if he'd known it all along and was just waiting for the right time to acknowledge it.

Harry reached for Draco's left arm and Draco tried to snatch it away but Harry held firm, his fingers wrapped around Draco's wrist. He reached slowly under the sleeve of Draco's jumper and pulled the cuff of the shirt he wore underneath down so he could undo the button. He held his breath and slowly pushed both sleeves up.

Draco didn't try to pull away again but he wouldn't look at Harry; his jaw was clenched and he was looking away over Harry's shoulder at something, or at nothing.

Harry stared down at the faded Mark on Draco's forearm, feeling something strange in the pit of his stomach. Pity, mixed with something else he couldn't identify.

"Did it hurt?" he asked and Draco nodded. "I don't think any less of you because of this, you know," he continued softly, tracing the outline of the Mark with his finger.

"You didn't think much of me to start with," Draco said bitterly.

"You know that's changed," Harry said, and raised Draco's arm, gently kissing the soft skin of his wrist just below the Mark.

"I didn't want it," Draco said, still looking away determinedly.

"I know," Harry said, and gathered Draco in his arms, kissing him soundly. Draco kissed him back and Harry felt the tension leave the blonde, his shoulders and back relaxing under Harry's hands. This time Harry didn't hesitate; he slid his hands between them and took hold of the bottom of Draco's jumper, motioning for Draco to move back so he could pull it over his head.

Draco let him, and after Harry had tossed the jumper aside he reached for the buttons of Draco's shirt. Draco's hands came up instinctively as Harry reached the third one down, holding onto his fingers.

"If you go all guilt trip over this I'm going to punch you," he said threateningly.

"Why would I?" Harry asked, taken aback.

Draco sighed and reached up, undoing the buttons of his shirt himself. Harry watched him, completely nonplussed, and once they were all undone Harry reached forwards hungrily, pushing the shirt off of Draco's shoulders and his eyes scanning his chest.

His eyes paused when his gaze met a scar bisecting Draco's chest, a long white line which was thin but still obvious; the scar tissue shining weakly in the light. He frowned momentarily and then stopped in shock; _he_ had done that, all those years ago in the bathroom…

"Shit," he whispered, his finger gently tracing the long and jagged line.

"Yeah, shit," Draco replied tonelessly, once again staring away at nothing, reaching up and pushing Harry's hand away without looking.

Harry looked at him helplessly, a myriad of conflicting feelings rushing up inside him. His immediate reaction was to try and say sorry, but what was the point? The damage had been done. The desire to apologise was followed in quick succession by wanting to defend his actions, then wanting to excuse them. After all those- no matter what Draco had said- came an almost unbearably strong wave of guilt which washed over him and made him feel like it had happened just yesterday.

Knowing Draco wouldn't react well to apologies or any words Harry could think of, Harry tried the only other thing he could think to do. With a lump in his throat, Harry leant down, his breath ghosting over Draco's skin, and gently kissed the tip of the white scar.

He felt Draco's breath hitch in his chest and trembling fingers came up to brush against his hair. Harry found himself on edge as he kissed Draco's chest again, knowing full well that Draco could snap in the blink of an eye and turn vicious, especially at moments like this.

Nimble fingers slowly came down and fingered the hem of Harry's jumper, before taking hold of it firmly and pulling upwards slowly. Harry felt relief course through him; the gesture was like Draco letting him know it was OK, and for now they could move past the issue of the mark Harry had left on his pale skin.

Harry's glasses were knocked off as Draco pulled the jumper over his head but he didn't care; Draco wrapped his arms back around Harry's neck and he revelled in the feeling of skin against skin, running his hands up and down the back of Draco's arms, from shoulder to elbow, and then over his back, his touch light and making Draco shiver in his arms and press his chest against Harry's.

Draco's nose rubbed against Harry's cheek and Harry looked up, his eyes half shut and breathing shallowly as Draco's eyes flicked to his lips. Draco moved towards Harry and Harry turned slightly the other way, his lips just missing Draco's. Draco moved after him and Harry tilted up fractionally so Draco couldn't quite reach, and a slow and hesitant smile curved Draco's lips.

Harry returned it, breathing out with a short soft laugh and leant down, finally gently kissing him.

The kissing didn't stay gentle for long; fuelled by the feeling of all that pale skin pressing against his, Harry couldn't keep control. And apparently neither could Draco. Harry found himself pushed over to the bed and pulled Draco with him, their frantic kisses not stopping even as Draco toed his shoes and socks off and pulled his own trousers open, pushing them down and then kicking them off.

Harry frantically gave his own clothing the same treatment and then they were both laid there side by side clad only in boxers, kissing for all they were worth. God it felt good to be this close to someone, to have hands running over naked skin.

Harry pulled the blanket over them both as Draco wriggled further into his embrace, one of his long legs slipping between Harry's. Harry couldn't help but look down, his pulse quickening even further at the sight of their intertwined legs and their matching erections that strained against the fabric of their boxers.

His face was turned upwards by Draco's hand and he kissed him again, gasping into Draco's mouth as Draco ground his hips into Harry's, and Harry didn't care what happened, he would blindly let Draco do whatever the hell he wanted to him because this just felt so good.

It was taking every ounce of self restraint Draco owned not to lay Harry on his back and fuck him- as much as he suspected Harry would probably let him, today wasn't the day; he wasn't going to push Harry into something he would potentially regret. He groaned as Harry threw a leg over his hip, pressing them together even harder at the same time Harry drew Draco's tongue into his mouth, sucking gently on it-

There was a click, an awful swishing sound, and then footsteps which stopped abruptly. The pair of them froze, knowing that sound could only be one thing-

Draco looked behind him so fast his neck cracked and then his heart dropped as he saw Blaise Zabini standing there in the doorway, his wide eyes following the trail of discarded clothing that led up to Draco's bed. His gaze moved higher up to Draco and Harry, both of them half naked, still wrapped around each other and panting slightly.

"You pair of stupid, stupid, _fucks_." Blaise's quietly fuming voice broke the silence and Draco dropped his head onto Harry's collarbone, screwing his eyes shut and knowing that they were now most definitely in some serious trouble.


	12. Chapter 12

"Draco?" Blaise asked, his voice hard. "A word, if you would be so kind as to spare me a moment?"

"Go away, Blaise," Draco snapped, lifting his head back up off of Harry's shoulder so he could glare at him.

"Not a chance, not until you explain what the hell is going on here!"

"It's none of your business," Harry interjected, a scowl on his face, blinking hard as he tried to focus without his glasses.

"You're in my room with my friend, which makes it my business," Blaise said dangerously. "You have no right to be in here, Potter-"

"Yes I do-" "Yes he does-"

Draco and Harry spoke simultaneously and then glanced at each other, looking a little startled.

"Draco, get him out of here before I decide to go down to the Hall and fetch Weasley," Blaise snapped.

Draco felt Harry bristle at the threat and reached out, putting a calming hand on his arm. He had been tempted to tell Blaise to fuck off so Harry could stay, but the furious look on Blaise's face made him reconsider. "Go," he said to Harry in a low voice. "Don't worry, I'll sort it."

Blaise made a sceptical noise behind them but they ignored him. "But if he tells-" Harry began.

"He won't tell anyone," Draco whispered against Harry's ear so Blaise couldn't hear him. "I'll threaten to Obliviate him if I have to. Go. I'll see you later."

Harry hesitated but then nodded. Draco sighed as he watched him awkwardly grabbing his trousers from the bottom of the bed, pulling them on even quicker than he'd taken them off, which in Draco's opinion was quite a mean feat.

Harry climbed out of the bed and shoved his feet into his shoes, simultaneously pulling his T-shirt over his head. He turned to look at Draco as he pushed his glasses back on his face and then hesitated for a moment as if he were wondering whether to kiss Draco before he went. He seemed to think better of it, shaking his head fractionally and turning away.

"I'll see you later," he mumbled, grabbing his bag and making a hasty exit, shutting the door behind him.

"You complete _moron_ ," Blaise hissed the moment Harry was gone. "What the hell is going on?"

"You've got eyes," Draco said tiredly.

"Yes which have just gone into shock at the sight of a naked Harry Potter in my room!" Blaise stormed. "What are you playing at, Draco?"

"Taking what I can get," Draco said flatly.

"And does he know you've been half in love with him since you were eleven?" Blaise asked, sitting down on the edge of his own bed, scooping up Draco's shirt from the floor and throwing it over to him.

"No, and he's not going to know," Draco said, slipping his arms into the shirt and pulling it over his shoulders but not doing it up. "It's just fucking about, nothing to get wound up over."

"But how the hell did you manage this one?" Blaise asked weakly. "Last time the rest of the world checked Potter was straight."

"He's experimenting," Draco said shortly.

"With _you_?" Blaise asked astounded. "But you two hated each other-"

"That's the point," Draco said. "No-one will guess he's fooling around with me because as far as everyone else knows we _still_ hate each other."

"So all that fighting?" Blaise asked. "A cover up?"

Draco shrugged.

"Does he realise the amount of _shit_ he is going to get in if people find out he's been fucking around with you?" Blaise asked brusquely. "You're not exactly man of the year, Draco."

"That's _his_ point," Draco said, wondering how to explain. "You know how he was getting mad because he wouldn't get in trouble? When I slapped him?"

Blaise's expression was growing more and more disbelieving. "So he's fucking you to get _into trouble_? What a fucking stupid, ridiculous idea."

"Yes I know," Draco said moodily. "Now drop it."

"What happens when he gets bored of experimenting? Or decides it's not worth the trouble?"

"Then I get over it," Draco snapped. "Blaise, _drop it._ "

Silence fell between them and Blaise eyed Draco carefully before speaking in quiet tones. "You're killing me, Draco. I just wish you still cared about yourself."

Draco swallowed and was horrified to feel a lump in his throat. He reached up and pressed his hands to his eyes to keep his tears at bay.

"I can't," he said thickly.

He heard movement and to his surprise he felt Blaise sit on his bed next to him, stretching his legs out in front of him and then wrapping an arm around Draco's neck, half hugging him.

Draco let his friend hold onto him instead of pushing him away like he would normally do, for once in his life all out of sarcastic barbs and bitter comebacks. Exhausted, he leant his head on Blaise's shoulder.

"You're an idiot, Draco Malfoy," Blaise said softly, his words no longer carrying any anger or contempt. "What am I going to do with you?"

Draco didn't reply. He didn't have any answers anymore.

 

* * *

 

"Fuck!"

Harry flung his bag across his room onto his bed, his mind racing with a thousand more curses and oaths. What the fuck were they going to do now?

He had always planned for people to find out and to get into trouble for his shenanigans with Draco but now it had actually happened it felt completely shitty. If Zabini told, and everyone found out he wouldn't be able to see Draco again, and as hard as he tried, he knew he wouldn't be able to just forget Draco, the feel of his legs wrapping around his, the way he tasted, or the sensation of his skin under Harry's hands.

"Fuck," Harry cursed again, sitting heavily on the edge of his bed. He was willing to admit to himself that he hadn't had his fill of Draco yet, and he definitely wasn't ready to give him up.

Inspiration struck him in one glorious moment and he seized his bag, digging around in it frantically and finally finding the charmed piece of parchment that Draco had written notes to him on all that time ago. It had since been wiped clean and Harry prayed it would still work.

He found a quill and ink lurking in his bag too and unfolded the parchment, spreading it out on his knee and hoping to hell this would work.

_What's happening? Are you OK?_

He watched the parchment for a while, feeling nervous and hating the fact he would have to wait for Draco to respond, if he did at all. He left the parchment on his bedside table and pulled out one of his books, flipping it open at random and hoping it would distract him.

It didn't work. The words on the page in front of his eyes went stared at but unread as his mind wandered and he thought about kissing Draco, about Draco's hands wandering over his tanned skin, the way Draco's breath felt on his ear.

Half an hour later he flicked his eyes back to the parchment for the millionth time and his heart leapt; words had appeared beneath his own in familiar cursive script and he dived across the bed to seize it, reading it in a rush.

_I'm fine, Blaise isn't going to say anything but he's seriously pissed. Meet me on this coming Friday night at eleven at the astronomy tower, don't try anything until then. See you on Friday_

Harry tried not to feel disappointed. He should be elated that Blaise wasn't going to rat them out but he wasn't; instead he was truly gutted that he wasn't going to get his hands on Draco again for a whole five days. It was like Draco had awoken something inside of him, Harry thought as he folded up the parchment and shoved it back inside his bag. He had never had urges this strong concerning sex and it was now bordering all-consuming and a tad worrying.

He sighed, getting up of the bed. The cut-short experience with Draco had left him feeling more than a little frustrated, and his daydreaming session hadn't helped matters in the slightest.

 _Might as well embrace it_ …Harry thought wryly, kicking his shoes off and grabbing his towel off of the hook on the bathroom door, planning on running himself a hot shower and wanking himself raw. He defiantly made the admission that yes, he would bloody well think about Draco whilst he did it and _not_ feel guilty, because he was probably going to hell anyway so he might as well go for a Galleon rather than a Knut.

* * *

"You alright mate?"

Harry looked up from his half finished essay to see Ron looking at him, looking a little concerned, his own quill held loose in his fingers and the essay spread out in front of him even shorter than Harry's. Some things never changed.

"Yeah, why?" Harry asked, adding another word to the end of his work.

"You've been acting funny all this week," Ron said quickly, as if he'd been holding these thoughts in for a while and now they were finally rushing out, taking advantage over the fact it was just the two of them sat there that evening, working together on a complicated Charms essay.

"You've just seemed really restless again, like you were at the start of the year," Ron continued. "Has something gone on with Ginny?"

"No, nothing like that," Harry said, trying to be reassuring. He knew he had been somewhat restless and distracted since he and Draco had been found out by Blaise but he didn't think that his friends had noticed. The five days had stretched on endlessly, time mocking him by apparently slowing down to half its usual speed.

"She's being really patient with you, you know," Ron said, looking a bit puzzled. "I didn't think she would be."

"Neither did I," Harry said honestly. "She's changed a lot after the war."

"She's changed a lot concerning _you_ ," Ron corrected him. "I think she still feels the same, she just doesn't want to push you away, or come on too strong and make you run off. I don't know, I only know what I hear her telling Hermione, and a lot of that's stuff I don't get."

"Oh," Harry said, wondering how the hell he could pretend to be interested in Ginny when he was meeting Draco in- he checked his watch and his stomach did a backflip- half an hour.

"I know you don't like it," Ron said apologetically. "I've tried to explain to her just to be normal with you…but she'd do anything for you."

"I know," Harry said moodily, adding a dot to an I on his essay. "Thanks for trying, anyway."

"Women," Ron said sadly. "They're all barking."

Harry grunted in agreement, checking his watch again. He looked up from it and his heart leapt to see a blonde figure walking quickly across the common room, sidestepping Seamus Finnegan who was coming into the tower and going swiftly down the staircase, grabbing the banister and swinging down and out of view.

Harrys heart was in his mouth; Draco must be on his way to the astronomy tower, all he had to do was wait long enough for it not to seem suspicious, slip Ron an excuse and then head to the tower himself.

"You heard about Malfoy this week?" Ron asked in an undertone, his eyes obviously also having followed Draco's swift journey across the room.

"What?" Harry said, immediately looking back at Ron.

"Pansy told Lavender who told Seamus that he's been a right dick this past week," Ron said thoughtfully. "Skipping class and refusing to go out, bitching at everyone."

"That's normal though, right?" Harry said, trying not to betray too much interest in what Ron was saying.

"Well to us, yeah, but Parkinson seems to think it's been way worse," Ron said. "And now even _his_ lot are getting wound up with him coz he's taking whatever it is out on them. You can't help but feel sorry for him, really."

"You feel sorry for him?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Well yeah," Ron shrugged. "He lost his Dad, from what I've heard his Mum's gone mad on him…he proper fucked it all up really. Some of it he deserves, but you know."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said slowly.

"He's not making it any easier for himself though, being a dick to everyone," Ron shrugged. "Oh well. He'll either get through it or he won't."

"What happens if he doesn't? If he gets kicked out of school?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged. "Can't be anything that good."

Harry couldn't wait any longer, Ron's comments had intensified his need to go and find Draco. He sighed, dropping his quill and sitting back behind the desk, rolling his essay up. "Mind if I give up and leave you to it? I'm not getting anywhere with this."

"No I think I'm going to call it a night too," Ron yawned. "You want to join in cards tonight? I swear to god I'm going to beat Zabini at least once."

"No, not tonight. I think I'm gonna get the cloak and go outside for a wander. I've been inside all day and it's driving me mad," Harry lied smoothly.

"Fair enough," Ron yawned. "I'll probably be dead out when you get back."

"I'll keep it quiet," Harry said and Ron nodded gratefully.

"Thanks mate."

Harry's guilt about Ginny was well and truly forgotten as he left the Tower in pursuit of Malfoy. Truth be told, he wasn't just searching for Draco for more illicit experiences tonight; he was worried about Draco's behaviour and how little Draco seemed to be considering his actions and wanted to ask him about it.

The walk up to the astronomy tower took no time at all; his feet took the stairs three at a time, adrenaline and anticipation pushing him on. He reached the top and pushed the door open, the outside air cold on his skin and immediately saw Draco, leant on the stone balustrade, looking over the edge of the tower.

"Malfoy," Harry called quietly and Draco whipped around. Harry took in the hard set of his jaw and the way his hands were balled into fists before Draco had stepped over to him, slammed him up against the door and kissed him with a force that bordered on violent.

Harry could taste desperation and fear in the kiss and feel it in the way Draco gripped his arms tightly enough to bruise. Harry let Draco control the kiss for a few moments, before pulling back, amazed by the neediness and lack of control in Draco's assault.

"Malfoy, stop," he said, pushing the blonde away enough to speak. "What's wrong?"

"This agreement doesn't involve talking," Draco replied harshly, capturing Harry's lips in another violent kiss.

"Malfoy!" Harry panted, refusing to kiss him back. "Come on, calm down," he said, holding Draco tightly by his upper arms.

"No," Draco replied, struggling viciously and trying to twist out of Harry's grip.

"Draco, please," Harry said, holding the blonde flush to him and kissing Draco's face next to his ear. Draco jerked away but Harry held fast onto him and kissed him again and again, feather light touches across his cheek and onto his lips and Draco slowly stopped struggling under Harry's attentions.

"What's wrong?" Harry whispered, gently kissing Draco's trembling lips again and running his hands up and down Draco's arms.

"Don't," Draco said thickly. "Don't you start pretending to care."

"I do," Harry said and had to grip Draco again as he tried to pull away. "Look at me," Harry said fiercely. "I do care."

"What does it matter anyway," Draco said sullenly, looking away again.

"Malfoy, what's going on? Why don't you care about what happens to you anymore?" Harry asked him quietly.

"Why should I?" Draco snapped, looking Harry in the eye. "You know everything I did, the mess I caused."

"You were sixteen and in over your head! That doesn't matter anymore," Harry said.

"You know what I did," Draco repeated, his eyes bright and angry. "I want to get what I deserve for it. I don't deserve this, this second chance."

"You just made some bad choices-" Harry said, shocked at Draco's bitter tone.

"Yes, I did," Draco snapped. "And I can't stand myself anymore, knowing that those were the choices I made. I can't comprehend making anything out of my life anymore, it's just-" he stopped abruptly, breathing out deeply.

"I tried, so hard to be what he wanted from me, and now I'm left with blood on my hands…" Draco continued more quietly. "I deserve everything that I get."

"No you don't," Harry breathed, leaning in to kiss him.

"Yes I fucking do," Draco said and wrenched himself out of Harry's grip with one last push, turning heel and fleeing from the tower, slamming the door behind him.

Harry stood there, perfectly silent and still for a long moment. He knew something wasn't right with Malfoy but he didn't know it was that bad. How long had the Slytherin been keeping in all those bitter thoughts and fears? And why was it all falling apart now?

Harry pulled the invisibility cloak out of his bag, instinctively knowing that he _had_ to go after Draco. He couldn't just leave him in the state he was in, especially if what Ron said about Draco isolating himself from his friends was true.

He pulled the cloak over himself and started on his way back to West Tower, meeting no-one on his way due to the late hour. The West Tower common room was still full of people but he managed to sneak across the room without being heard, leaving behind the warmth and flickering firelight of the room as he went through the archway that led up to Draco's room.

Pulling the cloak off of himself, he took the stairs two at a time and then stopped dead as he reached the closed door at the top, wondering what the hell to actually say when he came face to face with Draco. He anticipated another fight but he was ready for it; clinging to the notion that at least Draco was telling him some of what was going on inside his head, even if it came with shouting and fighting.

He reached out and knocked softly, his heart hammering and his mouth dry. He waited for what seemed an eternity before the door clicked and then opened.

Blaise Zabini stood there looking initially worried and tired, and then his gaze met Harry's and he stared at him, his expression blank. Harry opened his mouth uselessly, closing it again as words failed him. He shrugged helplessly and tried to think of some words to explain, even though he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, knowing that he just had to help.

Blaise eyed him for one long moment and then he sighed and nodded, stepping past Harry and walking away down the stairs.

Harry crept into the room and in the moonlight that shone through the single window he saw that Draco was in his bed, facing away from him towards the wall, the blankets pulled up over his shoulder.

Shutting the door, Harry crept in and dropped his bag, toeing off his shoes and pulling his socks off. He hesitated, feeling something strange in his chest that held his heart and lungs in a tight grip, a grip that only got tighter as he looked across at Draco. Giving in, he slowly walked across the room and climbed up onto the bed behind him, sliding under the covers and putting a hesitant hand on his waist.

Draco didn't move a muscle and Harry leant in, placing a trembling kiss on the back of his neck just above the neckline of the T-shirt he was wearing to sleep in. Harry kissed him again and again, long, slow kisses designed to wear down the formidable barriers that Draco had put up, barriers that Harry had glimpsed through at the top of the astronomy tower.

Draco shifted almost imperceptibly against Harry and his hand moved up, his fingers brushing against the hand of Harry's that held tightly around his waist. It was a tiny movement but it was enough; Harry seized on the small and subtle shift and put his hand on Draco's shoulder, rolling him over onto his back.

Grey eyes met his green ones and he leant down, pressing a kiss to Draco's lips. They moved in response, parting slowly and letting Harry run his tongue against Draco's lower lip.

Draco moved more deliberately now, rolling over further and pressing his body into Harry's, his hand slipping up to rest on Harry's neck as they kissed slowly and languorously, taking the time to taste and feel each other, holding each other tightly, the tension and worry slowly leaving them both like it did every time they did this.

The hand that had rested on Harry's neck moved and slipped lower. Harry expected Draco to reach for his T-shirt but was surprised as Draco pulled his own off over his head and tossed it aside, revealing all his skin, scars and all, to Harry's gaze.

Harry took Draco's left arm and pressed open mouthed kisses all the way up his forearm, making him shake in his arms and hold even tighter onto him, his breaths coming shallowly and rapidly. Rolling him back onto his back, Harry gave the scar on Draco's chest the same treatment, kissing it to tell Draco without words just how sorry he was for what he had done, how he wanted to make it all better.

Fingers were reaching for Harry's belt; he let Draco undo it and push his trousers down, kicking them off and then pulling his own T-shirt over his head, Draco helping him and throwing the shirt away onto the floor, leaning up on his elbows to kiss Harry once more.

The kisses from Draco were still full of need but he had calmed down significantly. Harry could tell he was still upset and scared but there wasn't the raw desperation he'd shown on the astronomy tower anymore; he was letting Harry take him in his arms and look after him.

Draco pulled back from Harry and briefly rubbed his nose against Harry's. He reached up and took Harry's glasses off, putting them carefully on his bedside table, before turning back to Harry and looking at him intently. He leant up, took Harry's head in his hands, tilted his head down and pressed a lingering kiss against Harry's scar, just as Harry had done to Draco's minutes before.

The gesture was simple but it shook Harry to the core; no matter what Draco said and how he treated Harry normally and told him he was no different, that one tender kiss showed he still was something special to him. In that moment it became clear that the caring was now a two way process; both of them having scars for the other to acknowledge and soothe.

Harry reached for Draco's sleep trousers and started to gently tug them down, quickly realising that Draco wasn't wearing anything beneath them. Draco must have sensed his hesitation because he reached down to push Harry's hands into action, silently encouraging him to continue.

They continued to kiss, tongues touching gently yet surely, as Harry pulled Draco's bottoms down, his heart hammering. Draco took hold of the top of Harry's boxers and pulled them down with one smooth movement, immediately letting go and reaching up to hold Harry's face in his hands, kissing him harder and slipping his tongue into his mouth at the same time he thrust his hips forwards into Harry's.

Harry gasped and then Draco was pulling away, biting down on Harry's shoulder and kissing his neck, and Harry was holding Draco's head to him, threading his fingers into Draco's hair as he kicked his boxers off and found himself pressed against a gloriously naked and unmistakably hard body.

He was burning up, his body was so hot and Draco's was even hotter and the kisses that Draco was pressing along his neck were perfect as they rutted against each other, the hard friction arousing them both unstoppably. Harry was gasping over Draco's shoulder, holding him even tighter and thrusting his hips into Draco's in a way that must have been instinctive, and Draco was moaning as he kissed him and was pushing back, pressing his crotch firmly against Harry's-

It was glorious and Harry couldn't decide if he wanted it to last forever or if he wanted to give in to the burning lust that was coursing through him and come right then, and then after a while the choice was taken out of his hands as Draco pushed harder and moved faster and Harry knew by his movements and his rapid gasps that he was going to come and he glanced downwards at their entwined bodies, and glimpsed their erections thrusting against each other and that was all it took; his eyes rolled back and he cried out, his thrusts becoming erratic and he was coming harder than he ever had in his life. Draco thrust against him even harder and his breaths sounded like sobs and Harry almost begged him to stop, he felt so over sensitized, but then Draco's spine was arching and his eyelids fluttered shut and he was gasping and Harry pressed his mouth to Draco's as he came, his cry muffled by Harry's kiss.

They broke apart and lay there panting and trembling, still holding each other tightly and then lips found lips and they gently kissed once more. Harry kept his eyes closed, not wanting to look Draco in the eye lest Draco speak the words he didn't want to hear, the words saying he should leave.

He felt Draco lean over him to presumably grab his wand off of the bedside table because a moment later Harry felt the tingle of magic on his skin and his sticky skin was suddenly clean once more.

Draco moved back and Harry felt a hand run down his arm from shoulder to elbow and back again, then he felt soft breath on his ear. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable.

"Sleep," Draco whispered, kissing Harry's temple.

Harry opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Draco, a questioning look on his face. "Sleep," Draco repeated.

Harry smiled weakly at Draco's slightly impatient tone and then nodded; giving into what he wanted. He knew it was a stupid idea and he should get dressed and leave but he was warm and comfortable and now incredibly tired.

Draco settled down behind him so they were facing the same way, wrapping an arm loosely over Harry's waist. Harry wriggled backwards into the embrace, sliding his hand over the one of Draco's that was on his stomach and threading his fingers through Draco's, pulling his arm around him more firmly.

"Cuddling, Potter?" an amused but sleepy drawl came from behind him.

"You started it," Harry mumbled in reply.

"Did not," Draco retorted through a yawn.

"Did," Harry managed to reply. Draco didn't respond and Harry smiled, letting sleep overcome him. Just a couple of hours couldn't hurt…


	13. Chapter 13

"Potter. Potter, get up!"

An annoyed voice and a hand on his shoulder shaking him made Harry jerk back into the land of the living, awakening groggily.

"You better get going," the voice said tersely.

His movements lethargic, Harry groped onto the bedside table for his glasses, his fingers finally closing over the metal frames and shoving them onto his face.

"What?" he managed to ask. He looked up and saw Blaise Zabini looking down on him impatiently, wrapped in a thick black dressing gown, which was an odd enough sight as it was. Harry looked around and saw Draco was still fast asleep, laid out on his front and taking up most of the bed. His face was tilted towards Harry's, with a small frown marking his features.

"What time is it?" Harry asked tiredly, rubbing his face.

"Eight. You've really got to go- people will start waking up soon," Blaise said.

"Did you sleep in here?" Harry asked, suddenly very aware that under the blankets he was still very naked, as was Draco.

"No," Blaise snorted. "Not likely. I kipped in with Theo, he's on his own in his room so there's a spare bed."

"Oh, right," Harry said awkwardly.

Behind him Draco shifted in his sleep, breathing out deeply and mumbling something, throwing an arm forwards over Harry's waist, becoming still once more.

"Did he sleep the whole night?" Blaise asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on his sleeping friend.

"Yeah, I think so," Harry said, shrugging.

"He didn't get up and leave?" Blaise asked. "Didn't go for a wander at some stupid hour?

"A stupider hour than this?" Harry asked and Blaise gave him a withering look. "No he didn't, I would have noticed," Harry continued. "Why?"

"Insomnia," Blaise said shortly. "He drives me mad."

"You and me both," Harry muttered and Blaise gave a wan smile.

There was a silence for a moment and then Harry spoke again. "You're going to tell everyone aren't you?"

The silence went on and on and Blaise was staring at Harry and Harry made himself look back, holding that hard gaze-

"No Potter. I'm not," Blaise said finally, with a sigh.

"Why?" Harry asked him.

"He's still asleep isn't he?" Blaise said as if it were obvious, jerking his head towards Draco. "Now get dressed and get out of here before I change my mind. I'll tell him I kicked you out, don't worry."

Blaise turned on his heel and walked into the bathroom and Harry sat still for a moment, pondering his words. He couldn't sit still for too long though; he knew Blaise was right and he had to be gone and back in his own room before anyone else got up.

He gently untangled his legs from Draco's and moved the arm that was draped over his waist. Draco grunted in his sleep and rolled over, pulling the blankets with him. Harry smiled, shaking his head at him before reaching for his clothes, pulling them on a little haphazardly due to his tiredness. He wished he could stay, he really did. He kept looking over at Draco as he draped the invisibility cloak over his shoulder and pulled his bag onto the other one, shoving his hands in his pockets. He would just have to see him later, he thought, glancing back one last time before leaving.

Pulling on his invisibility cloak just to be safe, he moved as quickly as he could back to his own room without creating too much noise. He got into his room, yanked the invisibility cloak off and was about to go through to the bathroom when the door burst open again after him.

Ron stumbled through the door, fully dressed and looking rumpled.

"Where have you been?" He asked Harry, a puzzled frown crossing his face.

"Where have _you_ been?" Harry countered, perplexed.

"Oh," Ron said, blushing. "Erm, with Hermione."

"Oh God, I don't want to know," Harry said fervently.

"I thought you'd guess, where else would I be?" Ron said, walking to cross the room to his bed, but then stopped stock still, staring at Harry with a horrified expression creeping over his face.

"Please tell me you've not been where I think you have," Ron said, shaking his head and still staring.

Harry opted for saying nothing, staring at Ron with wide eyes.

"You _have_! Jesus Harry, that's my _sister_!" Ron wailed, falling onto his bed face first.

"Er, what?" Harry asked, stumped.

"You've got- got a-" Ron spluttered, sitting back up and frantically gesturing to his own neck.

Harry dived into the bathroom, the lights automatically flaring up and allowing him to see himself in the mirror, looking dishevelled and with the source of the commotion now evident: he had a spectacular love-bite fully on display on the site of his neck. Oh, _fuck_. The mirror snickered at his appearance and Harry swore at it.

"You know I don't mind you and Ginny, but there's things I just don't want to know," Ron's mournful voice came drifting through the door.

"Erm…sorry Ron," Harry said, mouthing silent curse words to himself and examining the mark on his neck more closely. He didn't really need to; it was large enough and dark enough to be spotted from quite a distance away.

"Ron, what's the charm to get rid of these things?" Harry asked desperately, feeling slightly panicked. He couldn't leave his room like this, what if someone saw it and asked Ginny about it?

"I don't know. Lavender knows it though," Ron said, poking his head round the door.

"No! Not Lavender," Harry almost shouted, shaking his head. "She's too…" He stopped himself from completing the rest of the sentence, which in his head went something like _she's too likely too blab and talk to Ginny._

"Squealy?" Ron offered up and Harry nodded fervently.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Is there anyone else?"

"I bet Seamus does. I'll go track him down," Ron said, clicking his fingers.

Harry gave him an appreciative nod, breathing out shakily. "Thank you, seriously."

"You can repay me by learning it yourself so I never have to see evidence that you went any closer than a foot to my sister," Ron said sternly, and Harry nodded meekly.

"Ok, I'll be back in ten."

In the five minutes it took Ron to get Seamus back to their room, Harry re-examined the bruise on his neck twice more, earning himself a reprimand from the mirror for his trouble. How the hell had he not noticed Draco doing that? He supposed he had been a little distracted…he grinned guiltily to himself at the memory just as he heard the door open.

He sheepishly came out of the bathroom to see Seamus stood there in green pyjamas, with his sandy-blonde hair sticking up in all directions. He walked over to Harry without preamble, peering at his neck through evidently sleep fogged eyes.

"Fuckin' hell Harry, is she a vampire or what?" Seamus asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Ron elbowed him on his way past. "That's my sister you're talking about," he said grumpily.

"Don't you elbow me, Weasley, if I remember rightly you were the one who just dragged me out of bed at eight in the mornin' on a Saturday," Seamus retorted.

"Sorry Seamus, I'll make it up to you, I swear," Harry said hastily.

Seamus paused and eyed him carefully, evidently thinking of what Harry could do in return. "I want a go on your Firebolt."

"Deal," Harry said immediately. "Just get rid of it."

Seamus grinned and pointed his wand at Harry; his neck felt hot then cold and then normal again. "Is it gone?" he asked gingerly.

"Aye," Seamus nodded, letting loose a huge yawn. "Now I'm going back to bed. The spell to get rid of them is in your charms book if you'd bothered looking," he added good naturedly.

"Thank you," Harry said and Seamus gave him a lazy wave of his hand, leaving the room.

"Thank fuck," Harry breathed, collapsing on his bed.

Ron gave him a thoughtful look. "Why are you so bothered anyway? People know you and Ginny are seeing each other again."

"Would you want one of those on you?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hell no," Ron said, and grinned. "Point taken."

"I'm going back to bed," Harry groaned, backtracking into the bathroom. Maybe he'd go to sleep, wake up and his life would be simple.

 

* * *

 

When Harry awoke once more it was almost lunch-time and he found himself alone in his room. He didn't mind; his solitude gave him some time to think about the previous night. His reflection didn't last long though, his brain was promptly outvoted by his stomach as he suddenly realised he was starving. He hastily showered and dressed and made to go down to the Great Hall to hopefully find his housemates and grab a bite to eat, stopping off on a second floor bathroom on the way.

He had just opened the door when he spotted a familiar figure stood in his line of view, their back to him as they washed their hands. His heart seemed to jump up to somewhere in his throat as he took the few steps required to reach Draco across the room, and just as he was close enough to touch him Draco looked up and spotted Harry in the mirror.

"Hey, did Zabini-" Harry started.

"Fuck off, Potter."

Harry froze. "What?"

"I said, fuck _off,_ Potter," Draco snapped, turning away from him and taking a step past Harry towards the door.

Harry looked around them perplexed, to check they were alone; as far as he could tell they were so he didn't understand what was going on.

"Malfoy-" he began but it was the only word that made it out of his mouth before Draco turned with unexpected speed and shoved him backwards into the sinks.

"Get _away,_ " Draco said, pointing at Harry, his voice trembling as much as his hands whilst Harry could do nothing but gape at him. "We're back to fighting."

And then he was gone, storming out of the bathroom without a backwards glance.

Harry barely had time to collect himself and wonder what the fuck had just happened when the door opened again. It was Blaise Zabini and he stopped dead, looking thoroughly put out as he saw Harry.

"Oh well now that makes sense," he said, rubbing his face. "Draco just stormed off swearing like no other, and then I come in here and I find you. Who else…" he spread apart his hands and then sighed, shaking his head.

"Can you explain to me what just happened?" Harry asked weakly, standing up and rubbing his ribs where they had hit the sink.

" _You_ want to know why Draco's thrown a major tantrum?" Blaise asked slightly incredulously. He didn't let Harry reply before he was turning and reaching for the door handle, looking slightly disgusted. "Because of you, Potter. Just fix it."

"Fix it? Why the hell should I fix anything? I have no idea what his problem is!" Harry shouted.

Blaise turned back to scowl at him. "You really don't have a clue do you? You got involved without knowing him properly and now you're not taking responsibility for your actions-"

"Responsibility?" Harry said in disbelief. " _Involved_?"

"You're an idiot," Blaise snapped before stopping, too frustrated to continue. "Has Draco ever told you about the other guys he's had in his bed?" he asked, and Harry could tell by the tone of his voice that he was clinging onto his last shreds of patience.

"He hasn't had any-" Harry faltered.

"Exactly," Blaise snapped and then stormed out of the bathroom the same way Draco had done.

Shock and comprehension hit Harry at the same time with the force of a rampaging dragon. Of course- if he looked back on it properly he could see that what had happened between him and Draco had clearly passed over the line dividing fucking around into something much more serious, and yes, involved. They had spent the night together for Gods sake, the first night that they had both slept well though in years, if Zabini was to be believed.

And if he even thought about it for a second, he _knew_ his feelings for Draco had crossed the line into something more serious. How he had needed to go and comfort him last night, how Draco had kissed his scar…

Harry walked blindly to the Great Hall, not comprehending the noise and bustle around him. He slumped down at the table and automatically reached for a goblet and the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"You look like shit."

He looked up to see he had sat opposite Seamus Finnegan who was busying himself eating a plate full of fish fingers.

"Sorry, miles away," Harry said, blinking and trying to focus on what was in front of him.

"I'll say, I was calling your name for ages," Seamus said, sounding amused as he reached for the ketchup bottle. "What-"

He was cut off by a figure with long red hair barrelling onto the bench, sitting next to him and kissing him on the cheek before he could react. He saw Seamus grin down at his plate and suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Where have you been?" Ginny asked, reaching forwards and grabbing an apple. "I was hoping to see you last night after I got my work done."

There was a choking sound across the table as Seamus inhaled a sizeable chunk of fish finger and Harry realised in horror what had just happened. Ginny pointed her wand at Seamus and cleared his airway, looking alarmed.

"Sorry," Seamus gasped, looking up at Harry with wide eyes which flickered quickly to Harry's now unmarked neck and then back up to his face. Harry shook his head almost imperceptibly, pleading with his eyes for Seamus not to say anything, to _please_ not say anything.

"Chew your food, Seamus," Ginny said, giggling.

Seamus glanced at her before turning his eyes back on Harry, his expression laced with disbelief. Harry looked away, feeling a flush rising in his neck-

"You want to take a walk outside?" Ginny asked Harry brightly.

"Yes," Harry replied immediately, if only to get away from Seamus and his knowing gaze. Oh, how much worse could things get in the space of one morning? Draco now hated him, Zabini was furious with him, Ron thought he was doing his little sister and Seamus knew he was doing someone else. Not bad for half a days work…

"So did you get your Charms essay done?" Ginny asked as they left the Great Hall.

"Oh, no, not all of it," Harry said, ignoring the students that were staring at him as they walked back up the staircase and along a sweeping corridor.

"How come?" she asked, turning right and then diving through an archway that was disguised as a piece of wall, presumably heading towards the small courtyard that sat at the base of North Tower.

"Sat chatting with Ron," Harry shrugged.

Ginny tutted, reaching out and taking his hand. "You could have stayed with me a bit longer then," she admonished playfully.

"Well you had stuff to do anyway," Harry said half-heartedly, dejectedly thinking that he was still bloody starving.

His instincts proved him right; they ended up in the small and deserted courtyard which normally was a place that Harry quite liked; sheltered, quiet and out the way enough to mean it wasn't used as a constant thoroughfare like the main courtyard.

They sat on a stone bench under the canopy that looked out over the courtyard in silence, Ginny leaning into Harry's side. He wished she wouldn't; he felt thoroughly miserable about how he'd handled the situation with Draco. Not just over the past months, but for eight whole years. How could he not have known how the blonde felt about him? Why hadn't he bothered looking into Draco's hatred of him, his bizarre actions during the war, the way Draco treated him and spoke to him now? He had done nothing except think about himself in this whole mess…

Fingers on his cheek startled him out of his reverie, Ginny was turning his face towards her and then her lips were on his. He was kissing her back before his brain penetrated the shock of what was happening, but quickly realised it was all wrong. She tasted wrong, felt wrong and smelt wrong and he pulled away abruptly, his heart hammering.

"Harry," she said carefully and he felt a thrill of foreboding. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he muttered, turning his body away from her and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Then why wont you kiss me back?" she demanded. "Why won't you go any further? Why do I have to fight to get to spent time with you?" Finally, the fire he had been wanting to see in her was back, the argument he had been angling for was at his fingertips but it was too much too late.

She glared at him with her bright brown eyes that he used to think he could fall in love with and all he could think was that they didn't hold half the fire that a certain pair of grey eyes did, they didn't look into him in the same way Draco's did.

He stood up and turned his back on her, walking away.

"So you're just going to walk away?" Ginny called after him angrily.

"What else can I do?" Harry said helplessly, turning around on the spot to face her.

"You used to-" she began.

"Yeah, I used to," he said, a little exasperated.

"Fuck you, Harry," she said bitterly, "You're a coward, you won't even trust that something good could happen."

He opened his mouth to tell her that that was not what the issue was, but he was just too tired too fight. He turned again and walked off, her shouts echoing in his ears as he left her there in the courtyard, dully thinking that he had finally got what he wanted.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry wanted nothing more to cheer and celebrate that Ginny had finally dropped the 'Harry is a hero' act and had gone back to treating him the same as ever, like a human being with the rest of them, but he couldn't. Even though he'd got what he wanted, things were too messed up right now for him to be celebrating anything.

There was a lump in his throat as he thought about how he could be sharing his news with Draco; seeing Draco smile slightly and shake his head and call him an idiot. He wanted to grin as he told Draco that things were finally getting back to normal, and he wanted to claim a kiss from the blonde, before settling down in his company to read a book, or play a game of chess, or just sit and be with him.

It was truly bittersweet and he was torn between emotions as his feet took him automatically on the path back to West Tower. He bypassed the common room even though the fire was warm and welcoming and his favourite sofa was free, instead going immediately up to his room, not trusting his voice to hold if he spoke to anyone. The past twenty four hours had been such a rollercoaster and as he opened his door, stepped inside his room and looked up his world took another violent lurch in an unexpected direction.

Draco was there.

He was sat cross legged on Harry's bed, dried tear tracks visible on his cheeks even from the doorway. Harry had stopped dead, unable to process the fact Draco was in his room, apparently waiting for him, his eyes on Harry's and burning with a million different thoughts.

Harry didn't dare move incase Draco was a figment of his imagination that would disappear when he blinked like some sort of mirage, but then Draco was moving instead, climbing off the bed and walking over to Harry, flinging his arms around his neck and holding him tightly, nearly knocking him over in the process.

"Malfoy," Harry began helplessly, still not moving a muscle, standing there immobile as Draco hugged him.

"Shut up. Just, shut up," Draco said fiercely, before Harry could say anything he had pulled back and he had kissed Harry, and oh God, it tasted of everything Harry had ever wanted.

Harry made his arms move as his breath hitched in his chest and then he kissed Draco back, one hand coming to rest in the small of his back and the other cupping the back of his head, holding Draco in place as they continued to kiss.

"Hang on," Harry panted, tearing himself away from Draco and holding him back, one hand flat on his chest. "What's going on here?"

"Potter-" Draco struggled to push Harry's hand off his chest but Harry didn't let him; he couldn't do this without answers.

"No, tell me what the hell is going on," he said firmly. "You told me to fuck off this morning-"

"No!"

"Tell me!" Harry insisted.

"I like you, alright!" Draco shouted, pushing Harry away angrily and stepping back, his hands balled into fists. "I like you and I want to be with you all the fucking time and I hate you for it."

"Malfoy-" Harry began.

"Shut up," Draco replied petulantly, folding his arms across his chest and looking away, scowling at the floor.

"No," Harry said, stepping up to him. "I like you too-"

"No you don't, you want to fuck me," Draco snapped back.

Harry blew his breath out, exasperated. "If I wanted to just fuck you, why would I have stopped the kissing to talk?"

Silence met his words and he watched Draco carefully, who continued to scowl down at the floor. Harry took a tentative step forwards and Draco's arms uncrossed and relaxed. Harry reached out to take one of Draco's hands, pulling him up close and feeling Draco's breath hitch just before Harry kissed him.

We should really probably talk some more... Harry thought dazedly, but as Draco opened his mouth under Harry's, all thoughts of conversation fled. Besides, Draco must have understood what Harry meant because he'd stopped swearing at him and was allowing him to kiss him again, reciprocating with fervour.

Harry pushed them backwards until they were falling backwards onto the bed and their clothes were quickly removed, their lips only parting in the time it took to tug their T-shirts over their heads.

Harry soon found himself laid on his back with Draco on top of him, his body resting perfectly between Harry's legs and Draco was looking at him so intently it was causing small tremors to course through his body. Harry could read in every line of Draco's face and every small flick of Draco's eyes over his own features, how Draco felt about him and he was stunned that he had never noticed it before. Although maybe, he thought, it was one of things he never would have seen until he was ready to look for it.

Harry leant up and kissed him earnestly, trying to tell him he felt the same, that it was all going to be alright. Draco kissed him back, a long lingering kiss and then pulled back slightly, his eyes fixed firmly on Harry.

"What?" Harry breathed and Draco rolled off of him onto his back and pulled Harry with him with determined strength, his eyes still locked on Harry's and his expression set as he wrapped his legs high around Harry's waist, shifting his body beneath Harry's.

His meaning couldn't have been clearer and Harry felt a thrill of fear run though him, keeping his body tense and holding his hips away from Draco's body. He tried to speak but words failed him- but what the hell would he say?

"Do you want to?" Draco whispered in his ear, placing a series of gentle kisses on the shell of his ear.

Harry swallowed thickly and then looked down at Draco's slightly flushed but calm face. "I thought you didn't want me to fuck you," he said unsteadily.

"I do," Draco replied. "But if you leave afterwards I'm going to kill you."

"You really think I'd leave?" Harry asked and Draco shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "You're an idiot."

He caught Draco's mouth with his again before Draco could argue or call him any names back, rocking his body slightly against the blondes.

"Do you want to?" Draco repeated his question, his hands sliding over Harry's back. Harry looked down at him again and then nodded, both ready to agree to anything that Draco said and giving into his overwhelming arousal and need, wanting more than anything to do this with Draco to erase the negativity from the past day, to get as close to Draco as humanly possible.

"I'll lead," Draco murmured and Harry kissed him in consent. "Relax," he added, his hands sliding down Harry's back.

Relax? That was easy for Draco to fucking say- he wasn't the one about to lose his virginity. Before Harry could find any suitable words to express the sentiment Draco moved again; gently pressing his mouth to Harry's and lowering his legs, waiting for Harry to calm down. It seemed as if Draco had sensed Harry's nervousness without him having to explain it out loud and Harry was infinitely grateful for it.

As they lapsed into kissing, Harry found relaxing was an easy thing to do if he focused solely on that. He felt safe on familiar territory, territory in which he had learned exactly how to please both of them, with determined touches of his tongue against Draco's and gentle bites on his lower lip when Draco least expected it. By letting his thoughts wander leisurely towards what was going to happen instead of trying to think about it instantly, he could also focus on the sensations happening right then and his nerves faded.

If he were honest he was a little scared that Draco would mock or scorn him if he turned out to be rubbish at this. His mind was full of irrational thoughts that he'd disappoint him, or that Draco would get what he wanted after eight years of unrequited lust and then realise it wasn't what he'd thought it would be and leave, just as Harry had admitted to himself that he had feelings for the blonde…

Draco rolled Harry off of him to the side and gently took Harry's hand, breaking their deep kisses to take his wand off of Harry's beside table with his other hand.

"What-" Harry broke off.

"Trust me," Draco replied as he guided Harry's hand down and between his parted legs.

Harry's heart was hammering against his chest with such force he could easily believe it had taken issue with his ribs and was trying to break free of the cage of bones. The nerves were back but there had been a subtle shift and now they felt delicious, rushing through his body with his pulse and making goosebumps erupt over his skin.

Draco murmured something and Harry nearly jumped in shock, finding his fingers suddenly slick and wet and Draco smiled, kissing Harry again and carefully placing his wand on the bed next to them.

That smile set Harry's resolve; he wanted to do this, possibly more than he had ever wanted in his life. Draco had said to trust him, and as twisted as that notion was when looked at in the grand scheme of things, that was exactly what Harry was going to do.

"One at a time. Slowly," Draco instructed gently and Harry nodded. Draco kissed him again, his tongue slipping into Harry's mouth at the same time Harry slowly slid a finger inside of him.

They gasped together, the noise stifled by their kisses. Harry couldn't quite believe what he was doing but he tried again to push the thoughts from his mind and just feel, letting Draco guide him.

On previous occasions he had thought that he wouldn't find any pleasure in this certain part of sex with another guy, instead viewing it as an unfortunately necessary and slightly embarrassing means to an end. But now, as Draco writhed under him and moaned slightly and bit gently on Harry's lip, the whole act became astonishingly arousing and Harry couldn't get over the dizzying novelty of the thought that his fingers were actually inside Draco. His imagination went into overdrive, begging for the moment when he could slide something other than fingers inside of him instead, to feel the same glorious sensations currently assaulting his fingers on his cock.

Draco must have sensed his need and welcomed Harry's sudden eagerness, pulling Harry back on top of him and forcing Harry to move his hand. That didn't matter though because Draco was kissing Harry harder than before and wrapping his legs back around Harry's waist. He was fumbling for his wand again and repeating the charm he had used earlier, this time slicking Harry's cock, making him gasp.

Harry shifted into place, struggling to kiss Draco and panicking a little as he tried to think about where his body should be and what to do, when to move, how to move-

But then Draco was using his hand to guide Harry into place and he rolled his hips just as Harry pushed forwards and the head of Harry's cock breached Draco and Harry could barely breathe.

"Stay still," Draco panted, his hands gripping on Harry's hips, his eyes shut and a slight frown on his face, causing a cleft to form between his eyebrows.

Harry felt a mad desire to laugh- he couldn't think, let alone move. His blood was thundering around his body and he remained perfectly still but then he felt the almost imperceptible sensation of Draco's muscles tightening and loosening ever so slightly around him and he couldn't take it, suddenly being still was the worst thing in the world he could be doing-

"I have to move," Harry groaned.

"Slowly," Draco said, taking a deep breath.

Harry went as slowly as he could bear, sliding inside of him inch by inch. It felt so, so strange and altogether fucking amazing. His body was flush against Draco's, and Draco was trembling almost as much as Harry was and his lips were searching for Harry's again.

"Move," he breathed against Harry's lips, pressing his mouth firmly to Harry's, and Harry was only too happy to oblige, lost in the sensation of his cock sliding in out and in of such a tight, slick channel.

His fears that Draco wasn't enjoying this were soon assuaged as Draco let out a long low moan against Harry's lips and his hips jerked underneath him, and then Draco was moving against him, gasping with Harry and urging him on, pushing him to go faster, as hard as he dared.

Harry knew he wasn't going to last with Draco setting the pace at what he had but he couldn't worry about it; he moved his hands from holding Draco's thighs to reach up and thread their fingers together, holding his hands down either side of his head. How much longer they carried on moving together for he didn't know; it could have been anywhere between minutes and days, but he gradually became aware of Draco pushing harder back against him, and then Draco wrestled one hand free out of Harry's grip and pushed Harry back, his palm flat on Harry's chest. Harry leant back, still thrusting hard and deep and Draco in particular seemed to appreciate the new angle; crying out loud and his hand fisting in the bedcovers before letting go and slipping over his abdomen to take hold of his own cock.

"Harry-"

Hearing his name knocked Harry for six and he faltered but Draco didn't notice; his own hand was furiously working his cock and his back was arching and Harry knew what it meant when Draco's breath hitched in his chest on every pass like it was doing-

Never mind Draco, Harry nearly passed out as Draco came. As he cried out his muscles clenched more tightly than ever around Harry's cock and Harry once again forgot how to breathe but as soon as Draco's body untensed slightly he managed to breathe in great gasps of air and thrust harder than ever, losing control as his own climax was ripped from him without warning, causing his head to snap back and his vision to go white. He leant forwards again, bowing his head as he rode out the aftershocks, sweat dripping down his body which was violently shaking. His arms were threatening to give out and his breath came in gasps, breathing in lungfuls of air that tasted like sweat and sex.

They both stilled at the same time and Harry pulled out slowly before collapsing on top of Draco who rolled him over with some difficulty, so that Draco was laid on his back and Harry was on his side, his head resting on Draco's collarbone.

"Holy fuck," Harry managed to say, his breathing still uneven.

"Mmm, I'll second that," Draco drawled, using his feet to drag the blanket up from its scrunched up position at the bottom of the bed, grabbing it when he could reach and pulling it over their waists.

"I…" Harry began but gave up, laughing breathlessly instead.

Draco shook his head, laughing himself. "Was that meant to be a sentence, Potter?"

"Well-"

Harry didn't finish his sentence when there was an almighty crash and the door flew open-

"AARRGH!"

Seamus Finnegan stumbled backwards, his hands flying up to cover his eyes, turning and blindly reaching out to feel for the doorway to run back through in horror. Draco moved quicker than Harry was ready for, dislodging him from his comfortable position and wrenching the blanket up over his head.

"Seamus!" Harry shouted desperately, sitting up unsteadily. "Seamus, wait!"

"Not fuckin' likely!" Seamus shouted back, sounding hysterical. "Oh for fucks sake Harry, fuckin'- fuck!"

"Seamus please, don't," Harry begged. "Let me explain."

Seamus whirled around a little unsteadily due to the fact his hands were still firmly planted over his eyes.

"Explain?" Seamus asked incredulously. "You've got Malfoy in your bloody bed! How does anyone fuckin' explain that one? You-"

"Please, just come in and let me-" Harry pleaded.

"Not on your life-"

"SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR FINNEGAN!"

Seamus visibly froze as Draco re-emerged from under the blanket, yanking it off of his head and looking ruffled and furious. Seamus didn't seem to want to tangle with an angry and infamously volatile Draco who had built himself a reputation for tantrums and more recently, for throwing things, and then much to Harry and Draco's relief, he slowly turned on the spot and made to shut the door.

"Why does this keep happening to us?" Draco muttered irritably, shifting back to sit against the headboard, folding his arms tightly over his chest, the move hiding both his Dark Mark and scar from view.

"Because we're shit at remembering to lock doors?" Harry offered and Draco pulled a face at him. They both looked up simultaneously to see Seamus had finally shut the door but was still facing it, his back to them.

"Is it safe to turn around?" he asked a little warily.

"Yes," Harry said as Draco made an impatient noise in his throat.

Seamus turned around, his face flaming red and studiously avoiding looking at them.

"Oh don't be such a fucking homophobe," Draco snapped.

Seamus's jaw dropped. "What? You think- That's not why I'm freaking out! I'm fuckin' freaking out because – fuck, Harry, you're meant to be with Ginny!"

"If it helps, she called me a cunt and broke up with me earlier," Harry said to Seamus. "Even though I never technically got back with her…" he added vaguely.

"She did what?" Draco asked, distracted.

"Draco," Harry said edgily. "Not now."

"So it's Draco now?" Seamus asked in disbelief. "Is this who you've been seeing whilst letting everyone think you were with Ginny?"

"I-"

"Harry you're fuckin' unbelievable, and not in a good way this time," Seamus said, shaking his head.

"It's not like that-" Harry replied.

"Well, what the hell-"

"This is serious alright! I'm in love with him!" Harry shouted before he could stop himself.

"What?"

Seamus was the first to break the ringing silence that met Harry's words. Harry had expected it to be Draco but he was sat staring at Harry like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Harry couldn't really blame him.

"This is…" Seamus now looked uncertain.

"Yes, it is," Harry said, resolutely looking away from Draco.

"And you're…" Seamus trailed off.

"Gay. Yes," Harry said bluntly, realising that that was the first time he had admitted it out loud. Draco must have noticed too because he shifted slightly next to Harry, just enough for him to notice.

"But you two hate each other," Seamus said, now sounding bewildered.

"Obviously," Draco muttered.

"Seamus…can we talk about this when I'm dressed please?" Harry trailed off, a pleading edge to his voice.

"Yeah I'm going to go wash my eyes out anyway," Seamus said, making to go for the door.

"Seamus wait!" Harry called and Seamus paused. "You can't tell anyone."

"I bloody knew you were gonna say that," Seamus said, scowling. "I fuckin' hate keeping secrets."

"You should have knocked then before barging into someone else's room," Draco said snidely. "Idiot."

"This guy? You're in love with this guy?" Seamus asked Harry flatly, jerking his head towards Draco.

"Yes," Harry said firmly.

Seamus sighed, shaking his head again. "You don't half know how to cause a fuss, Harry."

"I know," Harry said unhappily.

Seamus eyed him beadily for a moment and then shrugged. "You owe me big time," he added sternly.

Harry nodded fervently and even Draco inclined his head in gratitude.

"Just…sort it out mate. If Ron finds out he'll freak...and Ginny will kill you," Seamus said, although his tone was now more understanding and even possibly sympathetic rather than angry.

Draco moved as Seamus finished talking, shifting onto his side and wriggling down the bed, turning his back to Seamus and pulling his blanket up over his shoulder. Seamus took that as his cue to leave, rolling his eyes and then turning his gaze to Harry.

"I'll make sure no-one comes for a couple of hours," he said, looking at his watch. "Make sure he's dressed and out of here by then though or I wont be helping put him back together if Ron or Ginny get their hands on him."

Harry gave him a grateful smile which Seamus acknowledged with a salute before turning to the door and quietly slipping out.

Harry sighed and turned back to Draco, laying down behind him and pressing his chest against Draco's back, running his hand up and down Draco's side and kissing the back of his neck.

"Will he tell anyone? Draco asked, not rolling back over.

"I don't think so," Harry said honestly. "It's getting a bit dangerous though-"

"Did you mean what you said?" Draco quietly interrupted in a strange voice.

"Mean what?" Harry asked, leaning upon his elbow to kiss along Draco's neck, trying to recapture the warm post-sex sensations that Seamus's untimely arrival had obliterated.

"That you love me."

Draco's words were rushed and Harry paused, his mouth pressed to Draco's neck. He slowly pulled back a little, rubbing his nose against Draco's warm skin.

"You know I do."

"Then why are we hiding?"

Harry frowned, reaching up to move a strand of Draco's hair off his forehead. "Would you rather we didn't?"

"You know how I feel about you," Draco said flatly.

"Do I?" Harry asked him.

"Blaise told you-"

"Yeah but you've never told me," Harry said gently.

"Neither have you," Draco replied immediately, rolling over to look Harry in the eye. "You never said it to me." Harry looked back at him for a long while and then lowered his head, brushing his lips against Draco's.

"You drive me mad," he whispered and Draco didn't move. "You're mean to me, you're mean to my friends, you complain about everything, you still find it wonderfully funny when I get in trouble, you lash out at me and you've still got a really fucked up view on some things. But it's OK because I do. I- you know."

"Oh how lovely," Draco replied with an affected huff.

"Shut up," Harry said and Draco smiled before gently kissing him quickly, then leaning up so his mouth was next to Harry's ear.

"It's always been you," he whispered and Harry felt something warm settle in his chest, unfurling and making him want to smile, to laugh-

"So we're…" Draco said hesitantly.

"Yeah," Harry replied and Draco smiled again.

"So," he whispered, pressing his lips to Harry's ear. "Ready for round two?"

Harry looked at him, surprised. "Eh?"

"Oh come on Potter, you can't be that dense about sex," Draco teased. "For a virgin you were rather impressive."

Harry blushed, burying his face in the crook of Draco's neck. "So you noticed, huh?"

"Only because you were terrified," Draco said.

"I was not!" Harry argued.

"To start with you were," Draco grinned, reaching up to gently tug on Harry's hair. "You soon got the hang of it."

"You think?" Harry asked, secretly pleased by Draco's unconventional compliments.

"Oh yeah. A bit more practice and you'll be an incredible lay," Draco said, laughing as Harry looked up indignantly and shoved at him.

"Cocky twat," Harry grumbled.

"You love it," Draco said, stretching out and his bones cracking.

"You don't mind…that I'd never had sex before?" Harry asked.

"No," Draco replied instantly. "I told you, my weird possessive streak likes being your only one. And you really have nothing to worry about so stop worrying and get on with the practicing."

"Oh you're so romantic," Harry said sarcastically, but with a twinkle in his eye.

"I don't do romantic," Draco said, his hand slipping down Harry's side. "I do being fucked pretty well though."

Harry shivered at the combination of words and Draco's wandering hand. "You not sore or anything?"

"A bit but in a good way," Draco said impatiently. "Now stop talking."

Harry didn't have the option of a retort because Draco had kissed him but he couldn't be that mad: rather he found himself trying not to grin as he kissed Draco back. Yes, his life was still somewhat messed up and there was undoubtedly more trouble yet to come, but now he and Draco had actually bothered talking to each other and they finally understood each other and suddenly the rest of the trouble didn't matter, not one bit.


	15. Chapter 15

"So, that whole tantrum you threw earlier was because you thought I was just fucking about with you?" Harry asked softly, turning his head sideways to kiss Draco's temple. The blonde was laid with his head on Harry's arm which was bent at the elbow enabling him to trace lazy patterns on the skin Draco's shoulder with his fingertips.

"Mmm," Draco said, shutting his eyes and breathing in and out deeply, content under Harry's attentions.

"A little more than 'mmm' would be nice," Harry said, poking Draco in the side. He wanted to know and after what had transpired between the two of them he thought it was high time they started becoming more comfortable with talking to each other about what they were feeling.

"I was mad with myself, not you," Draco said finally after a few moments of silence. "I thought that this was just fucking about to you and I was getting attached, alright? I didn't know how to deal with it."

"This isn't just-" Harry began.

"I know that now," Draco said. "Although I'm still not sure whether to believe you or not," he added.

"Believe it," Harry said firmly.

"OK," Draco said simply, and kissed him.

Harry saw the ghost of a smile pass over Draco's face as he settled back down onto Harry's arm, obviously angling over more fuss, and felt a pang of regret go through him as he chose his next words.

"You better go," he whispered softly, nuzzling into Draco's hair.

"Issues with actually getting out though," Draco said with a frown. "I really didn't think this one through."

"That's not like you," Harry joked. "Where's your Slytherin sense of self-preservation?"

"Apparently over-ridden by an unnatural concern for your wellbeing," Draco said archly, sitting up and stretching. Harry snorted with laughter, resting his hand on Draco's knee and his eyes roving over Draco's body up to his face.

"When you're quite finished eyeing me up, where's that cloak of yours?" Draco said, miming poking Harry in the eye.

Harry batted his hand away impatiently. "Why?"

"Because I'm borrowing it," Draco said matter of factly, sliding out of bed and standing there wonderfully naked to Harry's gaze and looking completely comfortable with it.

"Oh you are, are you?" Harry asked, propping himself up on his elbow and watching Draco as he gathered his clothing up from around the room.

"Yes," Draco said, pulling his boxers on and turning to face Harry. "Unless you want me to casually wander out of here and across the common room which will probably be full of people, including your best friends-"

"OK, point taken, just…take care of it," Harry said, sliding out of bed to retrieve the cloak.

"Don't you trust me, Potter?" Draco grinned, stepping up behind him as Harry leant down to open the bottom drawer of his dresser, slipping his hands across Harry's bare back.

"I guess I should," Harry said, standing up and stepping back into Draco's touch, shutting his eyes with a smile curving his lips.

"Yes, you should," Draco said firmly and then bit down on Harry's shoulder, making him yelp and twist away from him.

"Prick," Harry grumbled as Draco laughed, throwing the cloak at him.

"Half an hour ago you quite liked being bitten," Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh ha ha," Harry said, rubbing his shoulder. "What was that about me trusting you?"

Draco stuck his tongue out at Harry before pulling his T-shirt over his head and Harry was suddenly struck with how far he and Draco had come in such a short amount of time. Draco looked not only completely at ease and relaxed in his company, but also happy, approachable, like a normal teenage boy. Harry had to wonder if he and Draco could ever have been like this earlier on in their lives, if they'd given each other the time of day and worked past their rivalry.

Maybe was a dangerous word and Harry pushed it firmly from his mind. Thinking about maybe's was useless and wouldn't change anything, what was important was the here and now.

Like how Draco was draping the cloak over his shoulder and stepping up to him with a smirk that was half smile on his face, kissing Harry on the mouth and making a promise to come back later. Those were the things that were important.

 

* * *

 

Blaise Zabini looked up from putting books back on his shelf, frowning. He swore he had heard something moving on the staircase through the open door but there was clearly nothing there.

He turned back to put the last book in its place and then-

"AUGH!"

Two hands grabbed him from behind and he jumped a mile, dropping his book, and spinning around, his heart hammering wildly. He could hear Draco's delighted laughter but his eyes met nothing but empty space.

"Got you," Draco's laughing voice drawled from nowhere and then he appeared a swirl of shimmering material.

"You, _twat!_ " Blaise said violently, furious at Draco for having managed to make him jump.

Draco continued to laugh, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Oh so you're finally happy now, you fucking bastard," Blaise said angrily and in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh ha ha, yes. Only took you eight fucking years."

"Oh shut up," Draco said through his laughter.

Blaise pulled a face at him. "Where the hell did you get that cloak anyway? That looks like the real deal," Blaise asked, holding his hand out for the cloak. Draco hesitated and then tossed it over to him to examine.

"It's Potter's," Draco shrugged.

"And he let you borrow it?" Blaise asked, holding the cloak close to his eyes and running his finger along it, looking intrigued and impressed.

Draco didn't answer and Blaise looked up to see him smiling, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Oh God," Blaise said, wrinkling his nose and flinging the cloak back across the room at Draco. "You've gone all sickening _smiley_. You get your scowl back right now mister," he said, pointing a finger at him threateningly.

"I'm not going to turn into some sappy Gryffindor-" Draco began to say, folding the cloak up and putting it carefully on his pillow.

"Even you'd find that hard to believe if you could see the shit eating grin that's on your face right now" Blaise snorted.

"It's my 'I just got laid and you didn't' grin," Draco retorted.

Blaise's jaw dropped and he spluttered at Draco.

"You _fucked_ Potter?"

"Well… not exactly," Draco said airily, lying down atop his bed with his hands behind his head.

Blaise looked at him hard and then comprehension slowly dawned on his face. "Oh God, fuck! Draco- _fuck_!"

Draco smirked over at him. "Funny, that's what Finnegan said when he walked in."

"Finnegan walked in?" Blaise asked, momentarily distracted. "You two have got to be more fucking careful."

"Yeah I guess," Draco shrugged. "I don't give a damn who finds out to be honest."

"God, if you could hear yourself," Blaise said, shaking his head and laughing.

"Yeah I know, blah blah blah, I grew up a bit and so did Potter and _blah_ ," Draco said with a bite of impatience. He looked over at Blaise who didn't say anything.

"I'm not going to be any different," Draco said simply.

"Oh yes you are," Blaise said, sounding resigned. Draco eyed him warily and then Blaise smiled at him. "At least I hope you are. I hope you're going to be happy."

"Oh. Alright," Draco said with a brief smile in return. There was a pause and then Draco spoke again. "Game of chess?"

Blaise nodded and stood up, grabbing the chess set off of the shelf by the books. "You're on."

 

* * *

 

It was midnight and Harry was half asleep in his room when he heard the door to his room open and then softly close. He rolled over slowly so he could continue to feign sleep if it were Ron and opened his eyes a fraction to see nothing.

The bed dipped to his left and then he felt a body sitting across his waist, causing another dip in the mattress to his right.

"You're having far too much fun with that," Harry murmured, groping in mid-air until he felt familiar sleek material, grabbing hold and pulling the cloak off of Draco, who appeared wearing nothing but his boxers and grinning down at Harry.

"I know," Draco said, leaning down to kiss him.

"You came dressed for the occasion then," Harry said, amused, putting the cloak on his bedside table as Draco slipped under the blankets next to him. "Hey- you can't stay here, what if Ron comes back?"

"He won't," Draco said, sounding assured, settling in and resting on his side next to Harry.

"You've not stunned him or anything have you?" Harry asked warily.

"Nah," Draco shook his head. "No he's gone to Grangers room for the night. Finnegan's got Brown at his so he suggested it. Pretty clever for a Gryffindor."

"You still have to be mean about us?" Harry asked ruefully.

"I have to be especially mean now I'm nice to you. Have to balance it out," Draco said matter of factly.

"You confuse me," Harry said, laying back down on his side so he and Draco were nose to nose. "In some ways you've really grown up, but others…"

"I'm still a prat?" Draco offered and Harry grinned sheepishly. "Well just because I grew up and had some serious life lessons doesn't mean I've had a complete personality transplant."

"I suppose," Harry said. "To me though, your personality was always covered up by you being a dick; I never saw you being like, a person."

"Yeah," Draco said softly.

"You started being a person a while ago," Harry told him.

"When?" Draco asked.

"Sixth year," Harry said and gently ran his fingertip down the scar on Draco's chest.

He looked up to meet Draco's eyes again, wondering if Draco was going to get sad or angry again. Possibilities of both flickered through his eyes and Harry tensed, waiting for a response.

Draco kissed him. Gently but surely and Harry felt a pleasant shiver course through him and he kissed him back, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close, delighted at the prospect of spending another whole night close to him.

 

* * *

 

When Harry awoke the next morning he was alone in his bed. He guessed Draco hadn't been gone long as he was still laid on one side of the bed, leaving a Draco-shaped gap on the other.

He tiredly reached for his glasses and his eyes saw a piece of parchment next to the wire frames. He put them on and then picked up the note, blinking to try and get it to come into focus more quickly.

_Had to go before everyone else gets up and I don't know where you are with the getting caught thing. Draco._

Slipping the note into his drawer, he sat up yawning. He had had a good night's sleep, only once being woken by a bony elbow clocking him in the face as Draco rolled over. He slowly got dressed, wondering what to do for the day other than work, and wondering if Ginny had said anything to Hermione and Ron about the fight she and Harry had had.

Descending the stairs down to the common room, he paused and frowned slightly, on his guard. He could hear raised voices, the yells echoing slightly on the bare stone walls of the staircase. He took some solace in the face it wasn't him being shouted at this morning, and then his curiosity overcame him and he went on to see what was happening.

Most of the eighth years were there- Draco notably absent- and all were watching Seamus and Lavender Brown who were stood three feet apart, both red in the face and in the middle of a blazing argument, yelling at each other across the room. Expressions around the room ranged from worried to angry to intrigued to shocked.

"Well no I don't fuckin' trust you, you've proved you can't keep your fat mouth shut!"

"I only told Parvati, it's not like I sent a notice round school!"

"Thanks not the fuckin' point, you still told when you said you bloody wouldn't!"

"If it was that important you should have said-"

"I fuckin' did!"

Every face in the common room turned to look at him and he felt a sense of uneasiness wash over him at how people stared. It was like fourth year had just happened all over again and his name had just come out of the Goblet of Fire.

"Harry!" Ron spotted him, looking worried and Seamus and Lavender fell silent as Ron jumped up and ran across the room towards him.

"Up," Ron said urgently, pushing Harry back towards the archway before Harry could ask what was going on.

"What?" Harry asked, bewildered. "What's going on?"

Ron didn't answer, instead rushing Harry up the stairs and into their room. He shut the door, breathing out deeply and then slowly turned around to look at Harry, hesitating before he spoke, struggling with the words.

"Everyone's saying…there's a rumour going around…people have been saying-" Ron stopped and visibly steeled himself, blurting out the last of the sentence. "People have started saying that you're gay."

Harry froze, looking his best friend in the eye. Oh, _fuck. "_ What?" he asked carefully, hoping Ron would divulge more about what people were saying and just exactly how much people knew, his brain frantically trying to calculate an escape route.

"Lavender Brown said she'd got information. Some story about someone walking in on you and some guy in bed. She started telling people and they went mental with it, you know what they get like-" Ron said dispiritedly.

"How many people are we talking?" Harry asked, starting to panic.

Ron frowned but was stopped from answering as the door burst open, hitting him in the back and startling a cry out of his mouth. It was Seamus, looking as panicked as Harry felt.

"I told her not to say anything, Harry, I fuckin' swear I wouldn't have said owt if I knew she'd-"

" _What?"_ Ron interrupted, looking like he'd just been punched in the face. "It's true?"

Seamus looked from Ron to Harry, looking horrified as he realised what he had just done, his hand covering his mouth before speaking though his fingers in a shaking voice.

"Oh Holy Mother of fuck."

Ron's eyes were getting wider and his face was getting redder as he turned to look at Harry. "It's _true_?" he repeated incredulously, his voice getting louder.

Harry stared back at him, knowing that everything had well and truly fell apart. Everyone knew about him, it was only a matter of time before they cottoned on to who the guy in his bed had been, his pulse was racing and adrenaline was coursing through him, thrill at getting into trouble mixed with what he hadn't been expecting when he started this whole game- regret and worry.

"Harry!" Ron said weakly, his face clearly begging for a contradiction because his best friend, the great Harry Potter couldn't be gay, couldn't have been lying to everyone and his stringing his sister along-

Harry looked away. He couldn't defend his actions, he didn't want to excuse them. He didn't want anyone else to either, he just wanted people to realise he was like any other person, capable of the same mistakes as everyone else. He wanted to be known for the selfish prat he'd been lately, just like any other boy who had done what he had would.

Ron's face slowly fell as realised he wasn't going to get a response and shut his mouth smartly. He stared at Harry a beat longer, his jaw clenched and working the way it did when he were struggling to contain an outburst, but then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Harry and Seamus alone in the room.

"You didn't tell her who…?" Harry asked quietly when Ron's footsteps had faded.

"No," Seamus said, shaking his head quickly. "Harry, I'm so sorry-"

"It's OK," Harry said calmly. "It had to come out sooner or later…"

He sat down on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. In a way he was glad that it was out- now the matter was out of his hands he would no longer have to worry about how and when to come out to his friends and the rest of the world. He had had a feeling that Ron would take the revelations the worst out of everybody, but also knew without a doubt that he could trust in his friend, knowing that Ron would eventually come round. It would just take time.

"You really like him, don't you? Malfoy?" Seamus's voice said quietly, and Harry felt him sit on the bed next to him.

"Yes," Harry said thickly.

"Why?" Seamus asked hesitantly.

"Because…he's headstrong," Harry began slowly, trying to organise his whirling thoughts. "So, so headstrong and when that's directed into liking me…I know he'd do anything, you know?"

Seamus was nodding.

"And he just _gets_ it," Harry added, his voice becoming by degrees more assured. "Things I've been through. He doesn't treat me any differently for it, it's like with the things he does, he acknowledges it, and then just gets on with it."

"But he was…he was a fuckin' dick to you," Seamus said.

"Because he liked me," Harry said, giving a rueful smile as he thought of how he and Draco had spoken to each other in the past. "He wanted me…and couldn't have me."

"You're kidding," Seamus said, but he sounded interested rather than disbelieving.

"No," Harry said.

"Is he the first guy?" Seamus asked and Harry felt a sudden and swift rush of gratitude towards his friend, who was sat here and willing to talk to Harry about what was going on his life with neither judgement nor preferential treatment.

Harry nodded. "It started off as something to piss people off, you know? Like it was so frustrating being treated differently, and then he said something to me and I realised he liked me…"

"So you got with him to piss people off?" Seamus asked and Harry nodded sheepishly.

"It's not about that anymore though; it hasn't been since about a second after I first kissed him."

"The shit will hit the fan when people find out it's him," Seamus said matter of factly. "Is he worth it?"

Harry looked at Seamus in the eye. "Fuck yes."

Seamus chuckled softly, rubbing his eyes. "I kind of get it you know," he said thoughtfully. "You two are kinda…matched, in some sort of fucked up way."

"Oh, thank you," Harry rolled his eyes, moving to grab his school bag off of the floor and delving through it.

"Lost something?" Seamus asked as Harry upended his schoolbag over the bed, sifting through the debris until he spotted what he was looking for.

"No," he said vaguely, grabbing the charmed piece of parchment. "It's this, it's charmed, we can send messages…"

He trailed off as he saw Draco had obviously had the same idea and had beaten him to it. There were fresh words on the parchment and he smiled weakly, a lump in his throat as he read the nine simple words which were everything he needed to hear right now.

_Stay strong. I'm here. Find me when you can._


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey Potter! Where's your boyfriend?"

"Harry! Oi, Harry Potter!"

"Potter! Hey, gay-boy!"

"Potter sucks cock for Galleons!

"Liking the dirty knees there, Potter!"

"Yeah yeah, wonderful," Harry muttered as the laughter followed him. "That's great, yeah, excuse me, yep, thanks for that." He pushed his way through the crowd that was partly blocking the corridor that would lead him down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

He managed to edge through the last of the crowd and tugged his bag free, valiantly trying to ignore the shouts and laughter around him. He had been waiting for this ever since the news about him had been leaked out, and had undoubtedly been lucky to avoid this so far given the speed which gossip travelled around Hogwarts. Also, the lengths people went to get involved with him in some way or another were quite extraordinary. Being the fucking Chosen One definitely had some occupational hazards.

Sunday hadn't been that bad, mostly because he's spent the entire day holed up in his room away from the wary stares and worried glances of his tower mates, not even contemplating setting foot in the main castle. But now Monday had dawned and things weren't going as well.

Seamus and Hermione had been the only people he had spoken to the previous day. Seamus had dutifully entertained him by making a long list of all the horrific things he could do to get back at Lavender Brown for blabbing, starting with telling everyone about her preferences in bed and ending with stunning her and shaving her head. Seamus was chivalrous enough to not pin the blame entirely on her, acknowledging that it had been foolish of him to confide in her to begin with. He had apologised a thousand times and then solemnly assured Harry that to make up for his lapse in judgment he would accompany him on any shopping trips, to any manicure appointments, or to any musicals that he now had the urge to go to. Harry had thrown a pillow at him.

Hermione had come into his room soon after dinner, carrying him a plate of food and a flask of juice. Harry had smiled gratefully, and she had just nodded gently and wrapped him up in a hug, telling him that she was trying to talk Ron around and that she understood.

"You understand?" Harry had asked blankly.

"Yes," she had smiled in an indulgent and almost exasperated manner. "I think this makes more sense."

The comfort she had given him now seemed light years away as he struggled through the hoards of students who all seemed to find his new-found sexuality downright hilarious and completely open for discussion.

The Eighth years had all stared at him as he descended to the Common Room this morning, Draco once again notably absent along with Ron who hadn't come back to their room all night. No-one had said anything to him though, until he had left the West Tower. People had pointed, whispered and nudged each other and that had been bearable. Bearable until the point that a wide eyed Hufflepuff first year had stepped out to him and asked him in an innocent and curious voice, "do you really like boys now?"

That simple question had well and truly broken the dam and immediately afterwards people started asking him questions, people that he had never met or even spoken to. The questions turned into jokes which turned into the mockery and shouting that he was currently being assaulted by.

There was a chorus of wolf-whistles as he entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table, sitting in the first empty space he could find- close to the doors and far, far away from the staff table.

"Don't worry," a quiet voice said from behind him and a hand clapped him on his shoulder. He turned around to see Neville leaning down and looking concerned. "They'll get bored soon, they always do."

"Yeah, I know. It's OK, really," Harry said, reaching for a piece of toast as Neville walked around the end of the table to sit opposite him.

"So…it's true?" Neville asked, grabbing a bowl and cereal. Harry nodded, buttering his toast despondently.

"Yup," Harry said with a sigh. "Well," he amended, "the bit about me being gay is true, not the bit about me sucking cock for Galleons."

Neville choked on his mouthful of cereal, then looked at Harry reproachfully. "Do you have to be quite so crude about it?"

"It's one of those if you don't laugh, you'll cry, moments" Harry said with a shrug, taking a pair of goblets and pouring him and Neville some juice.

"People have really said things like that?" Neville asked.

"Yep. You'd think they'd be a bit more imaginative," Harry sighed.

"Harry, how are you not freaking out?" Neville asked, sounding slightly impressed. "Normally…"

"Well now it's something that's actually true, it's not a pile of shit that's not my fault and I'm being blamed for."

"So you're not bothered?" Neville asked.

"Well the shouting and stuff is a pain, but-" Harry spread his hands out in an accepting gesture. "I'm not ashamed of it," he said quietly. "People can get over it."

"Good on you," Neville said, and then dropped his voice, speaking in a low voice and glancing around to check no-one was eavesdropping. "Are you…seeing someone then? This guys that you had in your bed? I mean, is that bit true?"

Harry paused, munching on his toast. "Yeah it's true."

"So is he, like, your boyfriend?"

Harry laughed shortly, imagining the look of incredulity and disdain on Draco's face if he was ever introduced to anyone as Harry's _boyfriend_. "I guess so. But I can't tell you who it is," he added as Neville opened his mouth again.

"I…I think I know who it is," Neville said in a barely audible voice.

Harry jerked his head up, looking at Neville's flushed face intently. "You do?"

"Well…yeah," Neville said nervously.

"Who?" Harry asked urgently.

"Someone tall, blonde and sarcastic?" Neville suggested.

Harry's jaw dropped. "How did you know that?" he hissed across the table.

"You two kept watching each other!" Neville said, holding his hands up defensively. "Its force of habit- when he's in the same room I keep an eye on him because he used to hex me if I didn't, so I have to check where he is because he makes me nervous, and I still do it, and I noticed him watching you and you watched him back…"

"Christ, if you've noticed…" Harry groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "Do you know if anyone else knows?"

"I don't think so," Neville said slowly. "That would be huge news right? Everyone would be shouting about it if it got out."

Harry nodded, reaching for another piece of toast glumly. "I didn't want anyone to know yet but people just kept turning up at bad moments and finding out."

"Who else knows?"

"You, Seamus and Zabini," Harry told him.

"Wow," Neville said, shaking his head. "Who would have guessed?"

"Not me," Harry replied honestly, standing up and abandoning his toast, dropping it to his plate. "I'm going to go, beat the crowd."

"You want me to come with you?" Neville asked.

"Nah, I'll be fine," Harry said. "See you in a bit."

He walked past a bunch of conspiring Ravenclaw girls and heard one say in a stage whisper, "it's such a _shame_ , all the really good ones turn out gay."

They broke down into giggles and Harry rolled his eyes and then a voice spoke loudly and archly behind him. "What is such a _shame_ is that all Ravenclaw sixth years are tramps."

The girls gaped and Harry grinned as Hermione slipped her arm through Harry's and steered him out of the Great Hall, shooting the girls a disdainful look on the way past.

"My hero," he grinned.

"People are ridiculous," she said flatly.

"Have you spoke to Ron?" Harry asked hesitantly and she nodded.

"He's OK, he just needs some time to get his head round it. He's not bothered by it at all, I think he's struggling because you didn't tell him," she explained.

"Makes sense," Harry said glumly. "God I'm an idiot."

"Harry?"

A voice made Harry falter and he and Hermione turned to see Ginny standing there, looking straight at Harry with an unreadable expression on her face, her arms folded across his chest.

"Can I have a word?" she asked quietly.

Hermione glanced at Harry and he nodded, letting her know it was OK to go. She gave his arm a quick reassuring squeeze and then walked off, throwing a worried glance back over her shoulder.

"Is it true?" Ginny asked without preamble.

Looking away from her dark brown eyes, Harry nodded. Groups of people all around the Entrance Hall were watching unashamedly and there was nothing he could do but wait for the inevitable.

"All this time? You knew all this time, when I was hanging around waiting for you?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry sighed in a resigned voice. "I know I fucked up-"

"Fucked up?" Ginny asked sharply. "Have you any idea how hard this-"

"What, how hard this is on you?" Harry asked incredulously. "Look, Ginny, I'm sorry if you thought there was something between us, I never said anything about us getting back together-"

"You kissed me!" Ginny said angrily, causing several more heads to flick their way.

"No," Harry corrected. " _You_ kissed _me_."

SMACK

She slapped him hard across the face, almost as hard as Malfoy had done all that time ago and he reeled backwards, gasps echoing around the hall. This was fucking ridiculous, it was like his life was on stage and the rest of the school was the damn audience, every single one with a fucking front row seat.

"You," Ginny started threateningly, pointing at him, but words failed her. "You- you know what Harry, fuck you," she said angrily and stormed off.

He stood there, rubbing his face and knowing full well that he had deserved the slap, if only for not being honest with her.

"Are you OK?" an unknown voice said, and he turned to see a girl he didn't know standing next to him and looking concerned.

"Just brilliant," Harry replied promptly, letting go of his jaw.

"Are you sure? People have been being mean about you, and that's not right, not after- hey, where are you going?"

Harry had walked off, leaving the strange girl talking into thin air. He didn't know her, he didn't owe her anything.

Well, that was the initial encounters with the two people most likely to flip out of the way. Being ignored and one sharp slap. Oh well, Harry thought wryly as he trudged his way up towards the History of Magic classroom. Could have been a lot worse.

 

* * *

 

History Of magic passed unbearably slowly for Harry, even more so than usual. Ron ignored him completely, sitting with Hermione two desks in front and not even turning to give Harry a cheery wave or a thumbs up. Harry felt a pang go through him but he understood why Ron was being the way he was. He would just have to wait and talk to him when he had calmed down a little. Draco waltzed into class ten minutes late, swinging into a seat next to Blaise Zabini and not looking towards Harry at all. He didn't take it as a bad sign; Draco was probably just on guard and wanting to ensure he didn't give anything away, lest he should rouse suspicion and get Harry into even more trouble. Or something like that, it was still hard to tell with Draco.

The lesson ended after what seemed like an eternity and Harry dived for the doorway as soon as he could, and found the next class waiting outside already. He went to barge through them but a very wide and very tall boy he recognised as a beater from the Slytherin Quidditch team stepped out in front of him, blocking his path.

"I heard your news, Potter," the boy said, a smirk curling his lip.

"Yeah, that's great," Harry said vaguely, trying to sidestep the boy, well aware the rest of his class were trying to get out of room through the doorway he was currently standing in.

"I think it's hysterical," the boy continued as his friends snickered. "The _hero_ of the wizarding world, a flaming homo."

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored the jibe, pushing past him and managing to take a couple of steps away along the corridor.

"My Dad was right," the boy said scornfully to Harry's retreating back. "Faggots like you are what's wrong with the wizarding world."

The word hit Harry like a punch in the face and fury like he'd not felt in weeks burnt through him, making him spin around on the spot and reach for his wand- but someone beat him to it. A body came flying out of the History of Magic classroom and shoved the boy hard in the chest. His attention was still on Harry so he didn't see the furious person launch at him, and the shove took him by surprise, knocking him over backwards. He landed on the floor with a crash to general shouts and cheers from the watching students.

The boy made to get up indignantly, blinking as he saw who had just shoved him over. "Malfoy? What the fuck?"

Draco stepped over to the boy, pulling his wand out and pointing it directly between the boy's eyes. The boy's expression turned from angry to scared as Draco stepped right up to him and pressed his foot onto the boy's chest, pinning him to the floor.

"Have you got a problem with gays?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry was watching, horror-struck and frozen in place. He of course knew what was happening, and he could sense the anger radiating off Draco like heat, and knew something bad was going to happen.

"What?" The boy asked with difficulty due to the pressure Draco's shoe was exerting on his sternum.

"How's your _dad_ going to like it when he hears you've been owned by a faggot?" Draco snarled.

"You haven't owned me," the boy spat, his face reddening in anger. The whispering of the crowd intensified as people cottoned on to what Draco was saying, what his words meant-

"Oh," Draco said simply and Harry knew what was going to happen a split second before it did; Draco's face twisted in anger and disgust and then he moved too quickly for anyone to stop him, and he stamped hard on the boys face.

Screams and shouts erupted along the corridor and the boy howled in pain, clutching his nose which was clearly broken and dripping blood everywhere, but Harry still heard Draco's drawl over the noise.

"Now I have," he said calmly, and then walked off, twirling his wand between his fingers. He got half way down the corridor and looked back, meeting Harry's eyes for a split second with an unfathomable look on his face, before a strange smile curved his lips and he turned his head slowly away, continuing to walk until he was out of sight.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry looked down on the boy that was being pulled to his feet by his friends, his hand clamped over his bleeding nose. Harry shrugged unfeelingly as the boy's eyes met his, full of humiliation and fear.

"You should remember that," Harry said idly, walking away and calling over his shoulder. " _Faggots_ fight back."

The whole corridor was alive with whispering and excited chatter, people relaying the news about what the boy had said to Harry, what Draco had done and of course the latest revelation that Draco Malfoy had also just stamped his way out of the closet.

Harry definitely did not want to be around for the moment that hundreds of light bulbs came on in people's heads as they put two and two together, so walked as quickly as he could towards the West Tower, averting his gaze from anyone's faces and ignoring the shouts of his name that followed him.

Fuck classes for the day- his whole body was trembling with the aftershocks of what had just happened. Draco was a fucking _idiot_ , he was going to get in so much trouble for what he had just done and he _knew_ he was on thin ice as it was.

He dived through a tapestry and ran up a concealed staircase, feeling torn between amazement and dizzy gratitude for Draco defending him so violently, and cursing the Slytherin for getting himself involved in this mess. He burst through the covering tapestry at the top and looked one way along the corridor-

"Petrificus Totalus!"

There was a shout from the direction he hadn't managed to look in yet and he felt his body seize up and there was nothing he could do to stop himself falling backwards, hitting the floor with a painful thud and unable to move anything but his eyes. What the hell-?

A figure came into view, standing over him with arms folded and a grim look on their face.

"Harry James Potter, you better have a good explanation for this one," Hermione said and pointed her wand at him, releasing him from the spell. Relief was coursing through Harry- for a wild moment he thought he'd been cursed by someone out to get him.

"Was that really necessary?" Harry grumbled, holding a hand out so Hermione could help him up.

Hermione ignored him, hauling him to his feet. "So. Malfoy?" she asked wearily.

"Worked it out then?" Harry asked, grabbing her arm and pulling her along the corridor with him.

"Worked it out? He might as well have just kissed you in the middle of the Great Hall, he was that obvious- I mean, he just broke someone's nose for being mean to you!" Hermione exclaimed, letting Harry bundle her along without complaint. "I've never seen him like that-"

"Oh I have," Harry muttered, remembering only too well the punches, pushes and shoves he'd received from Draco over the past few weeks.

"I just want to know how on earth this one came about," Hermione said. "Of all people in the world, you shack up with…oh God, is he the boy that was in your bed?"

"Yes," Harry sighed as they approached the staircase that would take them up to West Tower.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, sounding exasperated.

"Yeah I know, should have been more careful-"

"No you shouldn't have done it full stop! _Somniare_ ," Hermione said, giving the password which would let them into the Tower.

"What, why?" Harry asked.

"Because it's Malfoy!" Hermione said. "The guy that has been picking fights with you for the last-"

"There's more to that than-"

"The guy who has been awful to you for the past eight years-"

"Yeah, that was only-"

"The guy that was a Death Eater-"

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, cutting her off as they reached the top of the stairs and went into the common room which was thankfully empty. "Will you let me explain?"

"I wish you would," Hermione said, sitting on the sofa and falling silent, eyeing him expectantly.

"Well," Harry said, taken aback about Hermione's sudden lack of interrupting, feeling very much put on the spot. "Erm, it's like…"

"Is he your boyfriend?" Hermione asked bluntly.

"He'd murder me for calling him that," Harry said and Hermione rolled her eyes. "But yes, if you want to call it that…yes."

Hermione watched him for a moment and then the part of her that reminded her that she was Harry's friend evidently won out over the part that wanted to be angry because her pose relaxed; her arms unfolding and her shoulders dropping. "Come on then," she sighed. "Tell me everything."

Harry hastily obliged, sitting down on the sofa next to her. "It's…well I don't know how we got here, we just did," he said honestly. "But I really care about him, and he cares about me too."

"Malfoy." Hermione said cautiously. "Draco Malfoy cares about you."

"Yes," Harry said emphatically. "God he's going to be in so much fucking trouble for that," Harry said, throwing himself against the back of the sofa and rubbing his face.

"Are you sure about this…" came Hermione's still hesitant voice.

"Yes," Harry repeated. "Look, don't tell anyone this or he'll kill me…when we're together he's different. It's like his guard goes down. He smiles and he talks to me properly and he makes me laugh…"

"Are we talking about the same person?" Hermione asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"If you're going to be like that, I'm shutting up," Harry said petulantly, crossing his arms and scowling.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said genuinely, reaching out and running her fingers through his hair. She paused, and looked at him. "Is he really like that?"

Harry nodded slowly. "He's still annoying as fuck sometimes, especially when he's in a bad mood…but he's great. He treats me special without treating me differently. He loves me."

Hermione's eyes widened. "He does?" she asked, her voice a whisper. Harry nodded, knowing without a doubt that he was right about how Draco felt about him. "And do you-?"

He nodded and Hermione bit her lip, looking at him like she couldn't work out whether to shout at him or hug him. She didn't say anything though for which he was grateful, and they sat side by side for a while in silence.

A strange noise made harry look up; bemused, he saw Hermione with her hand clamped over her mouth, trying to hold in her giggles.

"What?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

She tried to straighten her face and failed, starting to laugh weakly instead. "And after we were making jokes about Malfoy fancying you…Ron was actually right."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I've pointed that out to myself many times."

"Sorry," she said, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "I'm not sure Ron is going to see the funny side of this…"

"I know, he's going to be furious with me," Harry said sadly.

"If the shock doesn't kill him," Hermione said thoughtfully, hastily rearranging her features into something more sympathetic as Harry shot her a dirty look.

"He'll come round. He told me he's not mad with you, he just needs some time," Hermione assured him.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," Harry said and Hermione nodded gratefully.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked.

"I've got to go find Malfoy," Harry said wearily. "Find out how much trouble he's in today."

"You know this probably is a ridiculous idea," Hermione said and Harry stilled, looking at her carefully. "You two manage to get in enough trouble when you're apart, let alone together."

Harry gave a wan smile, standing up. "Tell me about it," he said. "Just do me a favour, yeah?" he asked and she nodded. "When you talk to Ron, tell him I'll talk to him soon."

She nodded in understanding and stood up, giving him a hug. "As long as you're happy," she whispered in his ear.

"Hopefully, once all this mess is over," he smiled and she nodded, pulling back. "I'll go find him now," Harry said, walking over to his drawer and delving in it for the Marauders map. "I just hope he's not already in detention…"

 

* * *

 

"How much trouble are you in then?"

Draco turned, frowning as he heard Harry's voice. Harry was sauntering up behind him, hands in his coat pockets and smiling.

"How did you find me?" Draco asked, leaning back against the willow tree he'd been lounging against and looking back out over the lake.

"Magic," Harry said and Draco pulled a face at him.

Harry came and stood beside him, leaning against the rough bark of the tree and looking out over the lake in the same direction Draco was.

"You know people will figure it out now," Harry said calmly.

Draco shifted sideways a little so their shoulders were touching. "I know. I'm sorry, I didn't think, I just reacted."

"That's meant to be my job," Harry joked quietly. "Acting first, thinking later."

"I must be hanging around with you too much," Draco replied. "You're messing with my brain."

Silence fell between them and Draco waited it out, knowing why Harry had come to find him and that he would speak eventually. He was thankful that Harry wasn't angry about what he had done earlier, which had been a very real possibility until Harry had walked up to him moments before. That combined with the fact that he hadn't received any summons from McGonagall meant he was feeling very lucky indeed.

"How much trouble are you in?" Harry finally asked, not looking at Draco as he did.

"I'm not," Draco replied and Harry shot him a suspicious glance. "I'm not!" Draco repeated defensively. "Nothings been said and I doubt anything will be said."

"You broke some guy's nose," Harry said bluntly. "It's not just backchatting, or swearing-"

"He won't say anything," Draco said dismissively.

"How the hell do you work that one out?" Harry asked edgily,

"Because, one, he'll have to admit that he really did get his arse handed to him by a gay guy, and two, he'll have to admit that he started on you and called _you_ a faggot and you really think that one will go down well?" Draco explained shortly.

Harry seemed to mull over his words. "So…you didn't do it to purposely get in trouble?"

"No, I just snapped." Draco said, suddenly wishing Harry wasn't looking at him right now. "It's different now, you know that."

"How?" Harry asked. Those damn green eyes were fixed on Draco's face and they were making him feel exposed in a way he never had before.

"It's you," Draco blurted, his eyes firmly fixed out over the lake. "Since you came along…the way you look at me and the things you say…I make you happy."

"Well, yeah," Harry said, a puzzled frown on his face as if Draco were saying the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well then," Draco shrugged. "Making you happy is a better way of paying my dues than taking it out on myself, right?"

The frown disappeared from Harry's face as he understood what Draco meant and he reached out, his hand slipping onto the side of Draco's face and his thumb gently stroking his cheek. Draco found himself inwardly cursing the gloves Harry was wearing against the cold air, wishing it was skin touching his face instead.

"You are so, so strange," Harry whispered, a half smile on his lips.

"Yeah, I know," Draco said. "What can you do?"

A thrill ran through him as Harry leant forwards and kissed him, his other hand coming up to cup Draco's face. This being honest about his feelings was really working out well for him right now.

Harry pulled away, rubbing his cold nose against Draco's and smiling.

"You want to go back in? My room's probably free," Draco murmured, his eyes still shut and revelling in the sensation of Harry's warm breath on his face.

"No," Harry said and moved away. Draco opened his eyes sharply and frowned at him and Harry looked down, and then up, smiling in a manner that could almost be called shy. "I'd like to go for a walk…and I'd like you to come with me."

Harry held out his hand towards Draco, who eyed him for a moment before the smile broke free and he looked down, laughing quietly.

"Yeah," he looked up, still smiling but that was alright because fuck it, he was happy and he wasn't going to not smile just to prove a point anymore. "I'd like that."

He reached out and took Harry's hand and rolled his eyes as Harry's smile became a full on grin. "You're easily pleased, Potter."

"Makes your job easier," Harry said mischievously and Draco laughed.

"I guess," he said, feigning seriousness. "Means we can spend the extra time on making _me_ happy."

"Come on," Harry said, pulling him away from the tree.

"You know people will _definitely_ figure it out if they see us wandering around the grounds hand in hand," Draco said, amused.

"I thought you didn't mind," Harry replied as they started walking.

"I don't," Draco said. "Think about how jealous people will be of me when they find out I'm the one that's bagged Harry Potter," he smirked.

Harry shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. "Trust you to look at it like that."

"How else should I look at it?" Draco asked, looking surprised. Whether genuine or playing around, Harry couldn't quite tell.

"Oh, how about you should feel incredibly lucky that I could see past all your past indiscretions-"

"Blah blah blah," Draco interrupted and Harry shoved at him with his free hand, sending Draco stumbling sideways and making him laugh.

"You know Hermione asked if you were my boyfriend earlier?"

"She asked _what?_ " Draco asked, looking just as outraged as Harry had pictured.

"I told her you were."

"You better fucking not have."

"Too late."

"You're a dick."

"You love it."

 

* * *

 

"Are you sure? I'll hang back, come up in half an hour…" Draco said, eyeing the West Tower staircase warily.

"Yes I'm sure," Harry said impatiently. "It's not like we're going to go up and start fucking over the back of one of the sofas."

"Well we could," Draco said slyly and Harry shot him a withering look.

"People will just think we walked up the stairs together, or we've-"

"Oh yeah right, people aren't _that_ stupid-"

"Where the _hell_ have you two been?" A distinctly Irish sounding voice came up from behind them and they turned to see Seamus and Blaise walking up, both looking relieved but put out.

"What are you two doing together?" Draco asked, momentarily thrown.

"Looking for you! We have been since that stunt you pulled earlier," Blaise said angrily, jabbing Draco hard in the chest with a finger.

"Ow! Bitch," Draco grumbled, rubbing his chest where Blaise had poked him.

"You're a bitch," Blaise replied half-heartedly. "Go on then, how much trouble are you in?"

"You sound just like him," Draco said irritably, jerking his head towards Harry.

"Well maybe we're concerned about your welfare even if you're not-" Blaise began hotly.

"I'm not in trouble, nothing's been said," Draco cut him off.

"What?" Blaise and Seamus said simultaneously.

"Not in trouble," Draco repeated slowly. "Now, can we go upstairs or are we going to spend all evening here?"

"You're unbelievable," Blaise said, shaking his head.

"Now you _definitely_ sound like him," Draco said and Harry cuffed him round the back of the head.

"Not in a good way this time," Harry remarked, following Draco up the stairs. He was thankful that Seamus and Blaise had turned up, thus making their entrance to the common room slightly less conspicuous than it would have been with just him and Draco.

There were few people from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses in the common room, all of whom threw the four of them furtive glances but didn't say anything. Harry veered away towards the archway that would lead him up to his room but Blaise's voice stopped him.

"Potter, where do you think you're going?"

Harry turned, confused, to see Draco, Blaise and Seamus all looking at him expectantly.

"We need a fourth for poker, hurry your arse up," Seamus said and Harry grinned, walking back over and following them up the stairway to Blaise and Draco's room.

As he sat back on Draco's bed, watching Blaise conjure a suitable table from nowhere, Seamus pulling bottles of butterbeer out of his bag and Draco retrieving a deck of cards from the shelf and starting to shuffle them, he smiled broadly. His evening had taken an unexpected but welcome turn; he had expected to spend the night alone with only his potions textbook for company, but this was immeasurably better.

He went on to lose every game but one that night but he didn't mind. They chatted, laughed and drank together and he felt completely at ease for the first time in a long time. He spent a lot of time watching Draco, who would inevitably notice, roll his eyes and then lean over to kiss him. Seamus and Blaise would then make fake gagging noises and Draco would hurl a pillow at them and Harry would start laughing all over again. Up there in that small room, he could forget about everything else. He forgot about how the rest of the world was reacting to his news, he forgot about Ginny being furious with him, he forgot that Draco was probably in serious shit for what he'd done that day. Instead, he tried valiantly to be any good at playing cards, laughed at Blaise and Seamus's banter and held Draco's hand, and it felt right, and it felt simple and it felt wonderful.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry awoke early, wishing he could just stay in bed curled up next to Draco, and knowing he couldn't. Yesterday had seemed like a dream, an amazing dream in which the rest of the world didn't exist. Spending the day alone with Draco and the evening with him, Seamus and Blaise as well as getting to stay with Draco all night…that all seemed like a million miles away in the face of having to go back to reality today.

He rolled over and watched Draco sleeping next to him for a few minutes and then gently kissed him and slid out of the bed quietly so as not to wake him.

Dressing quickly, Harry wondered how many people now knew the identity of the boy who had been in his bed. After Draco's fit of anger yesterday, it shouldn't be too hard to work out, and he would be surprised if no-one had seen them walking around the grounds together afterwards even if they had managed to get back up to West Tower unseen.

Even with slipping back to his room (which Ron was once again absent from) and taking the time to shower and collect his school things, he still found he was one of the first students to arrive in the Great Hall for breakfast.

He avoided looking at the staff table and the couple of students that were at the Ravenclaw table, and sat near the end of the Gryffindor table. He quickly looked up over the other empty house tables and then back down to his own plate. He was grateful that he hadn't had to shove through any crowds or endure any more confrontations this morning but he couldn't lie; he was nervous and the anticipation of waiting for he didn't know what was killing him.

He heard more and more students coming into the Great Hall and kept his eyes firmly fixed on his breakfast, not even looking to see if Draco was among them, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone and give them an excuse to say anything to him-

He jumped as a body slid onto the bench next to him and looked up, ready to speak but words failed him. Seamus was sliding onto the bench on one side of him, and Neville on the other, and Hermione was sitting down opposite him and next to her, was Ron.

Gratitude and love for his friends swelled in Harry like a rapidly inflating balloon as they all greeted him and set about getting their own breakfast, talking to each other about the upcoming classes for the day. As Neville worriedly asked Hermione about the charms homework, Harry looked across at Ron, hardly daring to believe he was there. Ron looked up too and met his gaze and the corner of his mouth quirked in a weak smile.

Harry returned it but didn't say anything; for now that was enough. Just them being there, Ron included, was enough to make him ready to handle anything.

"You alright mate?" Seamus asked and Harry nodded.

"Thank you guys," he said fervently as Neville handed him a mug of coffee. " _Thank you._ "

"It's what we do," Hermione said firmly, a twinkle in her eye.

"I know, but-"

"Harry, look."

Neville's low and urgent voice interrupted him and Harry looked up. Neville pointed towards the staff table where three black cloaked Aurors were talking to Professor McGonagall. Harry recognised one of them, a tall thin balding man, as someone who had interviewed him after the Final Battle, but had never seen the other two before. Juniors by the looks of them.

"Are they here to talk to you?" Seamus asked as Ron and Hermione swivelled in their seats to look.

"They might be," Harry said slowly. Aurors often wanted to talk to him and he knew from experience that they wouldn't at all mind intruding on his breakfast to do so.

The Aurors turned away from the Headmistress who Harry saw was looking _worried_. Alarm bells started ringing in Harry's mind as he saw the strange expression on the Headmistresses face and he slowly put down his mug of coffee, watching them as they veered right and walked straight towards the Slytherin table.

Harry was frozen in his seat. He didn't hear Seamus curse next to him as the Aurors walked down the length of the table, towards where he now saw Draco was sat, completely oblivious and unaware, talking with Theo Nott and picking a blueberry muffin apart.

All he could hear was white noise and the thudding of his own heart; a roaring in his ears that blocked out the conversation around him, and the Aurors had reached Draco and one had put his hand on his shoulder and was leaning down to talk in his ear-

Harry stood up violently and was dimly aware of Neville grabbing hold of him by his arms to hold him back, begging him to keep out of trouble. The Aurors moved as Pansy, Blaise and Theo stood up in protest and his view of Draco was blocked by black cloaks.

One Auror was trying to get the trio of Slytherins to sit back down and Harry could barely breathe, oh fuck, what was going _on_ \- and the third Auror moved and Harry saw Draco was now stood up with them, and his hands were bound behind his back, the grip of one of the Aurors firm on his arms.

" _No!_ " Harry wrenched free of Neville's grip and made his legs move, he had to move, his heart was in his mouth and the rest of the school was watching as they started to lead Draco away, no, they couldn't take him- and he reached them just as they reached the doors to the hall.

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted desperately and Draco turned his head, his face even paler than normal and his stormy eyes meeting Harry's.

An Auror stepped up to Harry; past him Harry could see the third arguing with Blaise and Pansy who had followed them this far and weren't backing down, Blaise was gesticulating wildly and Pansy was looking furious-

"Mister Potter!" The Auror said in surprise, his eyes flicking to Harry's scar.

"Yeah, Mister Potter," Harry snapped. "What the fuck is going on?"

"We've been asked to retrieve Draco Malfoy on terms of an ex Death Eater with breached parole, there was an incident yesterday-"

A sick, hollow feeling swooped into Harry's stomach at the words. He had fucking known it, he had _told_ Draco-

"Let me see him," Harry demanded.

"But-" The Auror began, clearly flustered by encountering a furious Harry Potter in what was probably supposed to be a routine operation to collect someone.

"Now!" Harry bellowed and the candles in the hall guttered. The Auror simply nodded and stepped out of his way, and the Auror holding Draco's bound wrists quickly moved out of range too. For the first time that he could remember, Harry was thankful for his Chosen One status; he knew the Aurors wouldn't have moved for anyone else.

Harry stepped up to Draco, trembling. Draco was beyond pale; his face was sheet white and his jaw was clenched tightly. Behind Draco Harry could see Blaise and Pansy watching uncertainly, flanked by the Aurors and unable to come any closer.

"Did you know this would happen?" Harry asked, his voice breaking.

"No," Draco whispered back and Harry couldn't stand it, the way Draco was looking so fucking lost, and scared.

Harry took the one last step and flung his arms around Draco's neck, hugging him as tightly as he could, making Draco stumble on his feet a little, his balance impeded by his hands tied behind his back.

"I honestly thought I'd got away with that one," Draco said weakly, his voice unsteady, unable to hold Harry like he needed to do because of the damn rope binding his wrists together.

"I'll talk to them," Harry said. "I'll get them to understand-"

"Won't work this time, Potter," Draco said quietly. "They hate Death Eaters more than they love you, and now they've got a perfect excuse..."

"But you did this for me, I'll tell them what happened-"

"They won't care," Draco said shortly and Harry could hear how close to the edge he was, how he was holding on to his very last shreds of self-control.

You can't go," Harry said, pressing his cheek against Draco's and clenching his eyes shut. "Not now."

"Try telling them that," Draco said humourlessly, and Harry could feel Draco shaking against him.

"Where are they taking you?" Harry asked, moving his face so his cheek rubbed gently against Draco's.

"I don't know."

"You can't-" Harry stopped abruptly, knowing he would cry if he continued to talk. Draco had done this to defend Harry and now look what had happened, this was worse than Harry ever had imagined, he had thought a suspension, or at worst he would have to leave school, he never had thought that this would be the price for a moment of anger-

"You realise the whole school is watching," Draco said to him softly, and Harry could feel his lips brushing against his skin.

"I don't care," Harry said fiercely, and he pulled back to look at Draco and Draco moved instantly, kissing Harry full on the mouth.

Harry kissed him back, terrified to his very core that this would be the last time he ever got to kiss him, to taste him, the despair building up inside as he again as the same thoughts ran through his mind- where were they taking him? What was going to happen to him? When would he get to see him again?

Draco broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Harry's and shutting his eyes. Harry still held onto him, not wanting to ever let go-

"Mister Potter-"

A hand fell on his shoulder and Harry jerked away.

"Fuck off," he spat.

"Don't you get me in any more trouble over this," Draco said urgently.

"But- _no,"_ Harry said furiously.

"Listen to me," Draco said quietly. "Stay strong. We'll work something out, just keep your head for now."

Harry nodded dumbly and Draco captured his lips in another kiss and Harry knew he was crying, tears slipping down his face unchecked as the Aurors moved in. A hand rested on Harry's shoulder and he was pulled back and another Auror was steering Draco away towards the doors of the hall.

Harry stood and stared, helpless and terrified and lost. Someone ran up beside him and he felt Hermione's hand take his and he stood there and watched as Draco was led away and out of sight.


	19. Chapter 19

"Harry, come on-"

The noise in the Great Hall returned all at once as Harry felt someone grab him by his elbow and try and steer him out of the hall. The roar of noise was deafening; he could hear shouts, excited chattering and gossiping but none of that mattered because Draco was gone, and Harry was trying to make sense of what had just happened-

"Fuck's sake, Harry, _move!_ " The voice belonged to Seamus and Harry dimly registered that he should probably let Seamus guide him to wherever they were going because his brain wasn't working and he couldn't think, let alone sort himself out or move his feet-

"Up," Seamus said tersely as they reached the foot of the main staircase. "Zabini'll meet us in the common room, go."

Harry dragged his mind away from thoughts of Draco's white, scared face and focused on the staircase in front of him, willing his legs to move and carry him up the staircase without buckling.

"I fucking told him," Harry heard himself saying. "I _told_ him he'd get in trouble."

"It'll be fine," Seamus said tersely. "You two are always in trouble and you manage to get yourself out of it." Harry wished he could believe the Irishman's words, but it was hard when Seamus didn't sound a hundred per cent certain himself.

"Hey Harry! Where've they taken your boyfriend?"

The shout from a voice Harry didn't recognise sent anger pulsing through him and he stopped half way up the staircase and span around, wanting to _kill_ whoever had shouted but Seamus grabbed him and Neville was suddenly there too, looking determined and grabbing hold of Harry's other arm.

"You shout at him again and I'm going to _end_ you," Seamus snarled at the person that had shouted as Neville hauled Harry up and out the way. "I will take that fuckin' wand and make you eat it, yes?"

"Go." Seamus caught them up and the three of them rushed up to West Tower, Harry's heart pounding in his chest and feeling sick to his stomach.

He flung himself onto one of the sofas, barely registering what was going on around him, lost in his own racing thoughts that were slowly growing more and more desperate. It was like a scream was inside his chest, pushing out at his ribs, threatening to snap them all and rip through him because this _couldn't_ be happening-

"Potter,"

A low voice made him look up to see Blaise Zabini slumping onto the sofa next to him, looking shaken. Pansy Parkinson was there as well, her jaw tight and her eyes bright and fierce with tears.

"Where are they taking him?" Harry asked Blaise, his voice cracking.

"Azkaban probably," Blaise said tonelessly. "His parole was pretty harsh."

Harry buried his face in his hands, not wanting to hear anything more about Draco's fate, his voice catching again when he next managed to speak. "This is my fucking fault."

"No, what Draco does is entirely _Draco's_ fault," Blaise said forcefully. "He knew what would happen if he didn't watch his step, this wasn't your-"

"But I should have-"

"Shut _up_ , Potter." Blaise snapped. "You managed to get Draco to give a damn about something, something _we've_ been trying and failing to do for over a year, so stop with the self pity. You deserve a fucking medal for getting through to him as far as I'm concerned."

Harry felt strangely humbled by Zabini's words and fell silent. Of course this wasn't just hard on him; it must be just as bad for Draco's friends, especially those who had indeed spent all their time since the war trying to help a Draco who was determined not to let them. Harry took several deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. Freaking out wasn't going to help anyone.

The initial shock of Draco's arrest was slowly wearing off to be replaced with something which could only be described as grief. Even as it threatened to overwhelm him like inky black waves in a storm, he realised he couldn't let it, not now. He recalled what Draco had said to him and shakily thought that Draco was right; he had to keep his head and take productive steps to sort this mess out.

At that thought an autopilot went on in full in the methodical and calm part of Harry's brain, dampening the pain and the panic, beginning to frantically sort through avenues and ideas because he had to _help-_

"I'm going to go to McGonagall," Harry said suddenly, the words falling from his lips as soon as the idea formed in his mind. "I might be able to do something…"

"I wouldn't count on it," Blaise said dully.

"Well he's going to try anyway, aren't you Harry?" an abrupt voice said and Blaise turned wide eyes to an unexpectedly determined looking Neville.

"Yeah," Harry said gratefully, standing up and finding his legs were still shaking. "I am."

"I'll walk with you up to the office," Neville said, and Neville Longbottom actually _glared_ at Zabini who had the good grace to look slightly ashamed. "Come on, let's go."

Neville's attitude galvanised Harry into action, giving him the strength to nod and follow him to the staircase, Seamus following not far behind, looking at Neville in admiration.

As they were about to go down the stairs, three figures barrelled up them, spilling out into the common room and nearly knocking Neville over.

"Harry! What's going on-?" Hermione panted, obviously having sprinted up to the West Tower in order to find him. Behind her, Ernie MacMillan was gasping for breath and rubbing a stitch in his side and bringing up the rear was Ron, white faced and silent.

"No time, we're going to McGonagall," Neville said firmly and pushed past Hermione. The trio stared at Neville in wonder and Harry hastily remembered he was meant to be following him, and did so, avoiding the gazes that followed him.

* * *

"Go on," Seamus urged Harry as he stood staring at the moving spiral staircase that led up to the Headmistresses office. He couldn't help but imagine Draco on these stairs, on one of the numerous times he had been summoned to McGonagall concerning his behaviour. A pang went through him as he imagined Draco stood before McGonagall, sullen and silent, or unconcerned and shrugging, caring so little about what happened to him.

" _Go,_ " Seamus gave him a shove and Harry stumbled onto the staircase, righting himself just in time to turn and see Seamus and Neville's anxious faces disappearing from view.

His heart was beating so hard around his whole body, it was making him feel slightly dizzy, and the stairs seemed to take forever and when he reached the top the door was already open and he could see Professor McGonagall stood at her desk, pouring tea out of a willow patterned teapot into two white mugs.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to come up," she said to him without turning around. "Come in."

He went in and sat at the chair she indicated, taking the tea she passed him without question or argument. She shoved a plate of biscuits towards him but he shook his head, feeling too sick to even contemplate eating anything.

"So," she said, sitting in a chair on the same side as the desk as him. "Dare I ask…this situation between you and Mister Malfoy?"

"Where have they taken him?" Harry asked.

"To the Ministry. He will be held there for the time being," she said and a flicker of relief coursed through Harry at the news that Draco hadn't been shipped straight out to Azkaban.

"I must ask, Harry. You and Draco…"

The implied question in the words was obvious and Harry didn't quite know how to answer it. "We're…together," he finally settled on saying, feeling awkward about letting Professor McGonagall of all people into the secret about his sexuality and his choice of partner. Well, not so much a secret anymore, not since…

The memory of their kiss in the Great Hall bought a fresh wave of misery rolling over Harry and it must have showed in his face because when he looked up again to take a sip of his tea there was compassion in McGonagall's normally stern gaze.

"And how long have you two been together?" she asked, her tone professional and non judgemental. Harry found himself thankful that she were questioning the when's and what's concerning Draco, and not the _why_.

"Erm…since we had that fight in Hogsmeade. When you sent us back to the castle," he said. He vaguely wondered if that was the exactly truth; he and Draco had been fucking around since that moment for definite, but he couldn't pinpoint the moment they had stopped fucking around and become a couple…

A memory stirred in his mind and he remembered: he and Draco entwined in a bed after sleeping together for the first time, admitting how they felt for the first time, Draco and the hesitant question; _So, we're…?_ and Harry's simple reply of _yeah._

He covered his eyes with his free hand, not wanting McGonagall to see him cry, of all people to break down in front of-

"Drink it, it'll help," she said and he obeyed, taking a gulp of tea and feeling a sense of calm wash through him as he did, numbing enough of the panic inside for him to be able to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"Is there anything you can do?" he asked when he could trust his voice to be steady.

"I don't know," she said and Harry's stomach clenched painfully. "I tried to keep the extent Malfoy's behaviour quiet from the Ministry for as long as I could, but there was a limit."

Harry nodded. "Can I…could I appeal to the Ministry? To Kingsley?" he asked.

She eyed him for a moment and then sighed. "You could, but I don't know how much use it will be. The situation is complex, to say the least."

She took a sip of her own tea and Harry waited for her to continue. "Kingsley is bound by law as Minister, he cannot take too many liberties with his new cabinet so soon after the war, and granting Draco Malfoy amnesty will be seen as a liberty-"

"Say it's for me," Harry said fiercely.

"Harry…" she said gently. "If you ever want your life to go back to normal…asking favours of the Minister will not help your situation in the slightest."

Harry stared at her, knowing she was right. "So now you realise I want to be normal," he said bitterly, the words escaping him before he could stop them.

"Your outburst in Hogsmeade certainly made me reconsider how the staff have been treating you within this castle, myself included," she said without shame. "But by the time I relayed the message to the staff, you seemed to have turned over a new leaf. I now see why," she added pointedly.

"And…once the news of your relationship becomes public, I don't think that will help the situation," she said slowly and Harry had to take another sip of tea to keep himself calm, the mug shaking in his hand. "There were many people, some of the Aurors in particular, who did not want Draco to return to Hogwarts, lest he have a negative impact on people, and specifically, on _you_."

"But he's _not,_ he's not had a bad impact-"

"They will see your relationship as a negative, Harry," she explained in gentle tones that made him want to cry. "They won't think that you should be anywhere near someone like Draco, and I will be highly surprised if they don't accuse him of using illegal means to facilitate your relationship."

"But why would he do that?" Harry asked, confused and then he understood. "He wouldn't - oh. They'll think he's using my name to get everything back."

She nodded. "A completely ludicrous notion to anyone who has spent more than five minutes speaking personally _with_ Draco since the end of the war," she said, her nostrils flaring and making her look much more like her normal stern self. "But the Aurors can be ruthless, and some of them will go to great lengths to supposedly protect you."

"So, I can't do anything," Harry said weakly. "I'm stuck-"

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, and she sounded like she meant it. Silence fell for a few moments, both of them sipping their drinks and lost in their thoughts.

"I vouched for Draco," she said quietly after a while. "To get the Aurors to agree to return him to Hogwarts. He's only a boy, after all. A boy who made some bad choices."

"Could you appeal again?" Harry asked her.

"As part of a formal hearing, maybe," she said slowly. "You must understand though Harry, I gave my expectations of his behaviour to the Wizengamot and he has contradicted everything I said in the way he has behaved. And I have had to report many of Malfoy's indiscretions over the past weeks to the Ministry…"

"But that last one- that was because of me, because of what someone said to me…" Harry trailed off, realisation hitting him like a dull blow. "God, it won't matter, will it?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," she repeated again. "I tried to help Draco, but he didn't do anything to help himself."

"I understand," Harry said thickly. "May I be excused, please?"

"Of course," she said and Harry got up and left, the grief and misery now welling through him with unstoppable force. There was nothing he could do, his fame was once again his curse and there was _nothing_ he could fucking do.

 

* * *

 

Harry flung himself down on his bed, alone in his room. He had walked back with Seamus and Neville to the tower, unable to explain to them what had happened, but he gathered they had assumed the worst by the look on Harry's face.

He climbed to his feet unsteadily, desperation building inside him once more. He went to the bathroom and roughly splashed water on his face, trying to calm himself down, but he couldn't-

He had to try. Fuck what McGonagall had said, he would _make_ them release Draco even if he had to pull apart the Ministry brick by brick to find him. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror and was unsurprised to see how pale he looked, how he genuinely looked ill-

"Fuck this," he snapped and pushed away from the sink, going back into his room and grabbing his backpack, not knowing what he was doing except that he had to _go_.

He set about packing his most valuable possessions, grabbing the Marauder's map out of habit and then remembering his Invisibility Cloak was still in Draco's room, shoving clothes haphazardly into his bag-

"Harry?"

He had been so intent on what he was doing he hadn't heard anyone coming into the room. He turned to see Seamus stood here, watching him uncertainly.

"What are you doing?"

What does it look like-" Harry snapped, turning back to his bag.

"Harry, you can't go-" Seamus began.

"You just watch me," Harry said venomously.

"But-"

"I have to!" Harry shouted. "There is fucking nothing I can do- not from here, there is no way that I can get Draco out of this mess by myself so I'm going to fucking-"

"Harry, just wait!"

"I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING WAIT!" Harry bellowed, caring so little about the pained expression on Seamus's face because all he wanted was to get Draco back if it were the last fucking thing he did-

"Harry, please, just come and see something, before you run off by yourself," Seamus pleaded.

Harry stared at him long and hard, and Seamus hastily spoke again.

"We figured that McGonagall said there would be nowt you could personally do, so we…well, come and see," he said gently, and then against his gut instinct and overwhelming desire to go and find Draco, Harry nodded curtly.

Seamus breathed a sigh of relief and motioned for Harry to follow him. Harry did, shadowing him down the stairs albeit with a bad grace, still somewhat frustrated that Seamus had stopped him from leaving, and getting thoroughly hacked off that Seamus seemed to think there was something more important to do than to go and extricate Draco from wherever the hell he was.

They stopped three steps from the bottom and Seamus made a shushing gesture, holding his finger to his lips and pressing his back against the wall. He pulled out his wand and cast a concealment charm over the archway before slinking down the last few steps, a cautious expression on his face. Harry followed suit, his curiosity sparked by Seamus's manner and managing to distract him from his rescuing Draco plan a tiny bit.

He paused and then heard voices through the archway, which no-one would be able to see them through thanks to the curve of the wall and the charm Seamus had used.

"-not the point!"

"Well what is the point then, he was awful to us-"

"You weren't exactly _nice_ to us-"

"And whose fault is that?"

"He shouldn't have-"

Hermione's voice suddenly cut through the argument, loud clear and authoritative. "Shut up everyone, just for a moment."

Seamus gave Harry a meaningful look and Harry shifted further forwards, wondering what was going on in the common room and desperate to catch every word that was being said.

"Look-" Hermione continued. "I don't care what any of you think. Harry is in love with Draco and we need to get him back, simple as."

There was something akin to uproar at her words as everyone started speaking at once. Harry was able to discern the voices of Ron, Ginny, Ernie, Neville, Blaise and Pansy in the rabble before there was a bang and everyone fell silent again.

"It's true," Zabini's voice said. "And complaining about it isn't going to-"

"How do we know Malfoy cares about Harry?"

That was Neville's voice that had cut across Blaise's. Harry wanted to leap out and tell them that he knew Draco cared about him, tell them to trust him, but at the same time he was also determined to stay exactly where he was and see what everyone else had to say, most especially Ron, if he ever chose to speak.

"Draco has been in love with Harry since he was eleven," Blaise said impatiently.

"Malfoy has been a cunt to Harry since he was eleven," Ginny said shortly and Harry winced at both her tone and her words.

"Yes, exactly," Blaise said with an air of someone attempting to explain something complicated to a very small child.

"But that's ridiculous-"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Ginny, shut up," a voice said, and Harry's heart leapt despite the words because it was _Ron_ who had said them, surely that meant that Ron was backing Zabini up, was defending Harry and Draco-

"We want him to be happy right?" Ron continued shortly. "And if that arsehole somehow does that then we'll get him back."

"But he was seeing him, behind my back," Ginny flared up, her bitter feelings about the break up clearly showing through. "Harry would never have done anything like that if it weren't for Malfoy-"

"Ginny this isn't about you! Harry is _gay_ , get over it." Ron snapped and silence followed his words. Harry shifted on his feet, initially upset at what Ginny was saying and then as elated as he could be given the present situation with not just what Ron was saying, but the way he said it. Harry couldn't help but notice the emphasis Ron had put on the word _gay_ , but to his relief the emphasis was not done out of disgust or disappointment. Ron sounded like he was just stating a fact, like Harry is a boy, or Harry has a scar, the stress on the word bought about by sheer exasperation with Ginny refusing to see the truth.

Ron's voice broke the silence, in much softer tones than before and Harry found he was holding his breath lest he miss any of what was being said. "Look, I'm sorry you got messed around in this, and he better have a good apology ready for you, but this isn't something he can change. It wasn't his fault."

"Ron's right," Hermione's quiet voice said.

"But-"

Ron had obviously reached breaking point, and next to Harry Seamus visibly winced at the return to the sharp tone which tinged his next outburst.

"Ginny, either you help or you bugger off!"

Harry could imagine the scene so clearly; Ron and Ginny squaring up to each other, red in the face, fists clenched and glaring for all they were worth, just waiting for the other to back down-

"OK," Ginny finally said quietly, her tone resigned, but accepting. "Sorry. I'll help."

"Now that's more like it," Ron said loudly. "Let's fucking do this."

Seamus turned to Harry with a small smile and silently nodded and Harry nodded back, his heart lifting a little bit for the first time since Draco had gone, unable to articulate just how it felt to have Ron back in his corner, how it felt to have all those people out there agreeing to help him.

"Well now you Gryffindors have finished having your moral dilemmas-" that was Pansy Parkinson speaking, sounding more amused than irritated. "What are we going to do?"

Blaise's voice came next. "Granger?"

"We are going to write to Kingsley because Harry can't," Hermione said and there were murmurs around the group.

"A letter." Pansy said and she sounded sceptical.

"Not just a letter," Hermione said grimly. "A letter and an appeal file concerning every thing Malfoy has ever done that would put him in a good light. Harry can't ask personal favours or get too involved because of the media bias, so we're going to do it for him, and we're going to do it properly. Give them everything we possibly can."

"Granger, you genius," Blaise said abruptly. "Plan of action, please?"

There was a pause and Harry could easily imagine Hermione sat or stood with her fingers pressed to her lips and her thoughtful frown in place, working out what to do-

"Pansy. You are going to go to a professor that likes Malfoy and get a character reference for him-"

"Vector," Pansy chipped in. "He _loves_ Draco because he actually gives a shit about Arithmancy."

"Good," Hermione continued briskly. "Neville, you are going to get a copy of Malfoy's probation documents from McGonagall, take Ernie with you, he'll help with the legal terms. Nott, you will go with Seamus, we need to get a copy of Malfoy's incident file from Filtch- oh don't look like that you'll be fine- Ginny, you are going to go to Madam Pomfrey and ask her very nicely for _these_ books from the infirmary, and Zabini, you are coming with me to the library."

"Research," Blaise sighed dramatically. "My favourite."

"What about me?" Ron asked, sounding uncertain.

"You," Hermione said, sounding firm. "Are going to go and comfort Harry."

Harry couldn't wait any longer; he had to see them all with his own eyes and see what they would say to his face, so he took a deep breath and walked through the archway. The group all immediately turned to look at him looking collectively surprised, all their eyes fixed firmly on him.

"Have you been eavesdropping?" Hermione asked suspiciously and he smiled weakly guiltily.

"He's obviously been spending too much time with Draco," Blaise muttered and Pansy nodded in resigned agreement.

Harry didn't care about what they had to say though, his eyes sought out Ron who stood up hurriedly, his face flushing red and his eyes hesitantly meeting Harry's.

There was a beat in which they both wondered what to say, and then Ron broke it, still sounding uncertain.

"Erm…do you want a hug or something?"

Harry smiled weakly as Blaise snorted with laughter and Hermione rolled her eyes, looking exasperated. "I think I do," he said quietly, and saving Ron the potential trouble of having to initiate any contact, walked over to him and hugged him.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder but hugging him tightly nevertheless.

"S'fine," Harry replied, pulling away.

"Well come on," Blaise broke in, sounding impatient once more. "Enough sentimental crap. Let's get going."


	20. Chapter 20

"Harry. Harry, mate, come on."

Harry felt a tapping on his arm and with some difficulty dragged his eyes away from the fire which he had been staring into for probably quite some time, watching the flames dancing and fighting. Most of the group had disbanded some time ago, a few to go to classes and some to go to the library or to set about completing whatever task Hermione had set them, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

It was Ron, wearing a concerned expression on his face. "Fuck classes today, come on. We'll go upstairs out of the way."

Harry saw him glance around the room and involuntarily mimicked the action. Several of the Eighth years were still there, watching him unashamedly. Parvati and Lavender were deep in conversation and as he looked over they threw him a glance, making the subject of their gossiping perfectly clear.

"OK," Harry found himself saying and followed Ron across the common room and up the stairs. His half packed bag was still on the bed but Ron made no comment except to shift it onto the floor out of the way.

"Sit down before you fall down," Ron said firmly and Harry complied, only too happy to sink down onto his bed and lie there on his back.

Silence fell between them and Harry let his eyes drift shut as Ron moved around the room quietly. Harry could half kid himself that it was Draco in the room with him, rummaging through his stuff or looking for a book that wouldn't bore the hell out of him. He could imagine Draco's drawl cutting through the quiet, asking why the hell Harry hadn't got anything better to read, before deciding he could find something better to do anyway, leaning over to gently kiss Harry with a smile curving his lips…Harry lost himself so deeply in that tantalising thought that he jumped a little when Ron next spoke.

"Can I ask…how this happened?"

Harry rolled onto his side and opened his eyes. Ron was sat cross legged on his bed, tugging at a loose thread on the top of his sock and eyeing Harry with intrigue.

Harry swallowed. He didn't know if he could talk about this without breaking down but Ron was still watching him, looking hesitant and uncertain. Harry felt that he owed Ron at least some form of explanation in return for his support- support which Harry knew must have been difficult for Ron to decide to give.

"I'd love to be able to tell you but I'm honestly not sure myself," he said quietly and slowly. "We just went from fighting… he let on he had a thing for me and it all just snowballed."

Ron nodded slowly, looking down at his sock once more before speaking carefully again. "And you really like him?"

"Yes."

"And you're gay?"

Harry looked up at Ron, a weak smile quirking the corner of his mouth. "You seemed pretty sure of that when you were shouting at Ginny."

Ron gave a guilty smile in return. "She had to hear it."

Silence fell again and Harry tried not to let his thoughts drift back to Draco but it was impossible; he had barely been gone half a morning and Harry was already aching to see him, to have him nearby and safe.

"Do you want to tell me about him?" Ron asked tentatively and Harry's sense of gratitude intensified with Ron's offer to talk about this, even though it was probably something Ron wouldn't want to hear.

However, Harry shook his head slightly. "I don't know- If I start talking about him I'll-" the lump in his throat cut him off and he blinked hard to fight away tears. Ron seemed to understand and nodded.

"Can I…I'm alright to ask though? Nothing too much…just so I know…" he asked and Harry nodded.

Ron seemed to ponder his next question for quite some time but when he spoke his voice was clear. "What's it like, being with a guy?"

"Thinking of turning to the Dark side?" Harry asked wryly and Ron pulled a face at him. Harry wasn't sure Ron understood the Muggle film reference, but he seemed to get the general gist.

"No, I'm just being nosey," he said honestly. "I bet it's really different isn't it?"

"Well I've not exactly got a whole wealth of experience to make comparisons with," Harry said.

"So you've not…not done that much with him?" Ron asked cautiously.

"Other way round, Ron," Harry said, torn between amusement at Ron's denseness and a fresh stab of despair over the thought of _doing stuff_ with Draco, which he might not get to experience again for a long, long time.

Ron frowned, and then opened his mouth and then frowned again and then comprehension dawned with perfect clarity over his face. "So you and Malfoy- you went further with him than any girls?"

Harry nodded, deciding not to tell Ron exactly how far he and Draco had been. He liked being back on talking terms with Ron too much to be the cause of Ron having a seizure.

"Well," Ron said thoughtfully, wrinkling his nose slightly, the expression on his face clearly showing that he didn't want to be thinking about what Harry and Draco had done. "I suppose I'm glad."

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"Well that means you never did my sister," Ron shrugged.

Harry laughed and then immediately felt surprised; he didn't think he was capable of laughing right now, but it was nice. It was good to have even some minute distractions from the heavy weight of Draco's arrest that pressed down on him.

"You'd rather I slept with Draco Malfoy than your sister?" Harry said, amused.

"Yes," Ron said without hesitation. "Although I'm gutted that I still can't take the mickey out of you, coz I bet Malfoy would be just as happy to hex me as Ginny would."

Harry nodded ruefully. "You got that right."

"I just can't really get my head around it. Seeing you two kissing earlier was like…I don't know," Ron said. "Of all the things in the world you expect never to see-"

"I know," Harry said. "I can't get my head round it either sometimes. I try and work out why we feel this way but I just can't-"

"Well, they're feelings, aren't they?" Ron offered. "You're not meant to understand them, you're just meant to feel them."

Harry thought about Ron's words and then nodded, understanding that much at least. Ron was right, maybe there were some things that you just weren't meant to understand.

"I'll go fetch us some food, you stay here," Ron said, standing up and stretching. "You need to get ready."

"Ready for what?" Harry asked warily.

"Ready to have your arse kicked at chess. Set up, I'll be back in a bit."

* * *

True to his word, Ron did kick Harry's arse without mercy at chess that afternoon, on several occasions. Harry didn't mind in the slightest, it was just so good to have Ron there with him.

Hermione joined them for lunch in their room and for the first time since he couldn't remember when it was just the three of them together again, which was just what Harry needed. Having his two best friends around soothed his ragged nerves and made the ache in his chest close to bearable.

Mid afternoon bought more visitors; ones Harry hadn't been expecting. Blaise and Pansy appeared with a bagful of Honeydukes sweets and a deck of cards and settled in with the trio for several hours. Harry could see that they too were suffering, Pansy more visibly so. Blaise had on a brave face that Harry could see through in an instant, his ability to see his true feelings probably enabled by spending a lot of time in Draco's company.

Night rolled around and Ron and Hermione went to fetch dinner, despite Harry's protests that they could go to the Great Hall if they wanted. They ignored him and turned up with heaps of food, including an entire Treacle Tart which Harry learned Ron had wrestled out of the grip of a chubby second year before they could even get a good sniff.

As he ate his second slice, Harry pondered that a few weeks ago he would have been irritated by their behaviour, seeing it as special treatment and them going out of their way unnecessarily for him. Now it was different; he knew in his heart they weren't doing all these things because he was the Chosen One and deserved preferential treatment, they were doing it because he was their friend and they simply wanted him to get through this mess.

"Here," Hermione said quietly after they had finished eating and voiced thoughts about going to sleep, slipping a small vial into his hand. "Dreamless sleep potion."

Harry shook his head violently, trying to press the vial back into her hand but she shied away. "You won't sleep at all otherwise," she said gently.

He stared at her, feeling his chest tighten. If he took it he would sleep for sure but then there would be no chance of Draco visiting him in his dreams. He remembered the first dream he had had about the Slytherin; when they were running down the hill and Draco had a Gryffindor tie around his neck and Draco had told him he loved him-

"I know," Hermione said gently, wrapping him in a hug as he pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to fight back tears and failing. "But you need your rest, because we need your help with all the stuff for his file."

He nodded, knowing she was right. He brushed the back of his hand across his eyes, swallowing thickly and she gently let him go.

"Bed," she said firmly and he complied, going through to the bathroom to get changed.

"Misery loves company," the mirror whispered to him and he ignored it, avoiding looking at his reflection as he went through the mechanics of his night-time routine, hearing Hermione and Ron conversing in low voices through the door.

He didn't want to sleep but on reflection the thought of spending more hours awake thinking about Draco would be even worse. So he slipped into bed, took of his glasses and picked up the vial that Hermione had left atop his chest of drawers, downing it in one and just managing to put it back atop the cupboard before he sank into sleep.

 

* * *

 

The next few days were exhausting, not just for Harry but for everyone involved in what Seamus had dubbed the 'getting Malfoy's arse out of jail project.' Hermione had naturally taken charge and had set everyone jobs to do concerning organising files, translating legal documents, drawing up timelines, writing up verbal accounts, attempting to find similar cases in books from the library and shifting through the huge amount of paperwork they had gotten from Filch concerning Draco's behaviour.

Harry had woken after his dreamless sleep determined to help. Hermione welcomed his attitude and said she was proud of him, giving him a whole list of things he could do. Whilst he was happy to be kept busy and productive, he couldn't help but notice that whilst he was given just as much work as everyone else, his was of a decidedly different nature. He would be the one sent as a runner to the library or to McGonagall asking for different books of pieces of paperwork, and even to sneak food and drink from the kitchens for the group working away in the common room. He would also occasionally help with the task of going through the books from the library, but never anything actually to do with Draco. He realised why when he had peered over Neville's shoulder to see him looking at the detention report for when Draco had been fighting with Harry in Hogsmeade. His stomach had clenched painfully and he had dropped the books he was carrying, suddenly feeling panicked and everything once again feeling oh so real and so dangerous.

The teasing from the rest of the school about his sexuality had abruptly died down, although almost everyone was interested in his relationship with Draco. Most were bold enough to talk about it within earshot, and some were brazen enough to ask him about it to his face.

Seamus had earned himself a detention for hexing a Ravenclaw sixth year who came over to Harry when he was eating breakfast in the Great Hall- the first day he had done since Draco had left.

"So worth it," Seamus had said, with a shrug, reaching for more bacon.

Seamus wasn't the only one to be more than enthusiastic in their defence of Harry. He found out that same day that _Ginny_ was the one responsible for hitting the Slytherin Beater who had called Harry a faggot with a Bat Bogey hex so powerful it took Pomfrey and hour and a half to get all of the flapping things off.

The third person was, to everyone's surprise, Pansy Parkinson. She had been stood next to Harry when a third year had asked him how long his boyfriend was going to be in jail for. Before Harry could even think about replying, Pansy had whipped around and hit the boy square in the face with a rolled up Daily Prophet, the same Daily Prophet that she was now reading for the eighth time whilst sat in the common room, scowling heavily.

"This is ridiculous," she spat, glaring at the paper for all she was worth.

Blaise looked up at her from where he was sat in the armchair next to hers, his eyes idly travelling again over the headline of the paper: _CHOSEN ONE FALLS FOR DEATH EATER._

"I know it is Pants, but there's nothing to do. Put it down if you're going to get mad again."

She turned her glare to him but heeded his advice and threw the paper aside, shooting it one last venomous look. The article had been less than supportive and in places had been downright unpleasant, painting Draco as an attention seeking manipulator and Harry as a confused and uncontrollable liability.

"Wait till Potter finds out you got detention for defending him," Blaise said with a chuckle.

"I didn't," Pansy said, looking across the common room to where Potter had fallen fast asleep on one of the sofas, a book on his chest and his glasses lopsided on his face. Weasley was there, trying to pull Potter's shoes off without waking him. "I did it for Draco."

"You know it's the same thing, now," Blaise commented, his eyes also on Harry. "We do things for both of them."

"I suppose," she said, kicking the paper off the edge of the sofa as if it didn't deserve to have a seat on the plush fabric. It landed on the floor with its pages crumpled but so the photograph accompanying the headline was facing upwards; a picture of Harry and Draco together in the Great Hall seconds before Draco was taken away. No-one knew where it had come from or how it had ended up at the Daily Prophet.

"Do you think they will work together?" She asked Blaise suddenly.

"Oh yeah," Blaise said vaguely, his eyes back on the report in front of him. "Who else on the planet is as messed up as Draco?"

Pansy gave a small smile, watching as Hermione Granger cast a charm on Potter, enabling Weasley to lift him easily and without waking him, carting him off through the archway to his room. Maybe Blaise was right, she mused. If Potter could handle defeating the Dark Lord at the age of seventeen, he could probably handle Draco.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Hermione, who came across to sit with them, looking a little fraught and incredibly tired.

"How's it going?" she asked Blaise, who was frowning.

"Not good," Blaise admitted. "I'm finding more and more things that will contradict what we're trying to do…Draco's really dug himself a hole here. And not just a little hole, I'm talking a hole the size of one of those craters on the moon-"

"I know," Hermione said quietly, and the weary tone of her voice immediately made the two Slytherins nervous. Up until then she had been adamant that their plan would work and they were to give it their all, but now it looked like things had changed.

"You think…" Blaise didn't dare say it.

"I don't know if it will work," Hermione said, rubbing her face. "There's never been a case like it so we can't use any thing like that as example, and like you said…Malfoy's been an idiot more times than he's been good."

"But-" Pansy flared up at once, ready to remind Granger just exactly of how much Draco had done in saving their arses during the war, but Blaise cut her off.

"She's right, Panse," he hesitated. "I'm not sure either…"

He fell into a glum silence, echoed by Granger who was biting her lip and frowning. "We just don't have the _weight_ ," she said. "We're students taking on the Ministry, however much stuff we get we're still not going to be considered seriously."

"Especially on paper," Blaise said. "It's not like a formal appeal where we can stand up and prove it and argue, they'll just shrug paper off. McGonagall can't even put her damn name on it because Draco broke the terms of the last time she vouched for him."

"Isn't there someone else that can do it?" Pansy asked, looking to them both. "Another adult who can help us out-"

"No-one with the same weight McGonagall has," Blaise said. "We can't get anyone from the Ministry because that defeats the point-hang on, where are you off?" he asked as Pansy suddenly stood up, her jaw clenched and looking scarily determined about something.

"Just to my room," she said and then she was gone, leaving Hermione and Blaise exchanging mystified glances.

"What on Earth was that about? Was it me?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"No, not you," Blaise said. "She's probably just got on one her. Most likely nothing."

Hermione wasn't convinced. The look on Parkinson's face had been one of absolute determination, completely resolute as if she'd made her mind up about something important…Hermione shrugged, falling back into the chair and sighing. God, she was exhausted and she was truly worried that despite their best efforts they weren't going to be able to get Malfoy back.

 

* * *

 

"WAKE UP!"

Harry sat bolt upright at the shout that came from somewhere near the bedroom door, looking around wildly. He saw a blurry figure in the doorframe and then looked over to see the distinct outline of Ron, still in his bed, rubbing his face wearily and trying to straighten his blankets, obviously having been woken by the shout too.

"Get up, Potter, you've got a visitor!"

"What? Who?" Harry croaked, shoving his glasses onto his face and seeing Blaise Zabini in the doorway, looking…excited but almost nervous, an emotion that Blaise rarely let show.

"Is it-?" Harry began, his heart leaping.

"No, it's not Draco," Blaise said quickly and Harry slumped back onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"Then I don't care," Harry said, his voice muffled.

"You really will care when you see who it is," Blaise said in a strained voice. "Potter, I'm serious."

Harry sat up again, frowning. "Who?" he asked.

"Just get dressed," Blaise said.

Cursing his brain for having a troublesome abundance of curiosity which right now was overwhelming the desire to ignore Blaise and go back to sleep, Harry got out of bed and half heartedly pulled some clothes out of his drawer.

"Today!" Blaise snapped as Harry changed in the bathroom, yawning widely.

"You could just tell me-" Harry called through the door, not holding out any real hope that Blaise would divulge any more information on who his mysterious visitor was. _Slytherins_ , he thought ruefully.

"Just come _on_ ," Blaise said. "You'll forget to be mad at me when you see who it is. You should be mad at _Pansy_ anyway, this was all her doing, that wonderful, sneaky bitch."

Harry rubbed at his sleep fogged eyes and joined Blaise who promptly made for the doorway. "McGonagalls office," he said over his shoulder as Harry followed him. The common room was deserted and the fire dead and Harry wondered just how early it was. He hastily stopped wondering and started moving as Blaise pointed threateningly at the staircase.

"Yes I'm going," Harry said tiredly, not revealing to Blaise just how curious and interested he now was, the desire to know quickly superseding his tiredness and disgruntled feelings at being awoken so early, especially on a Saturday.

He went as quickly as walking would allow to the office, toying with possibilities of who it could be that wanted to see him. It was obviously someone important, someone that Blaise was a little nervous at being there, someone who Parkinson had had the idea to contact… He was filled with sudden fear that it was something bad to do with Draco's arrest but surely Blaise would have just told him if that were the case? And Blaise had said Pansy was wonderful and sneaky for what she'd done; the sneaky part made Harry uneasy but the word wonderful had to mean it was something good?

His fears not completely assuaged, he reached the top and knocked once. A low voice acknowledged it the other side and he pushed the door open, stepping inside then stopping still in shock as his eyes locked onto the visitor. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the pale, elegant woman stood up and delicately bowed her head to him, the silk of her dress rustling softly as she moved.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mister Potter," she said quietly.

Harry couldn't do anything but gape, feeling like he'd been winded, as Narcissa Malfoy sat back down and gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite her.


	21. Chapter 21

"I suspect you are wondering why I'm here," Narcissa Malfoy began by saying, her eyes firmly on Harry who nodded dumbly, still not quite able to articulate words.

"Well, yeah," he managed to say when she did not continue.

"I was busy speaking to the family lawyer last night, concerning Draco," she said and Harry saw the flicker of pain that crossed her beautiful features at the mention of her son's name. "And then an owl arrived from Pansy."

Harry nodded in confirmation, now knowing what Pansy had done. It seemed she had written to Draco's mother and told her everything, something that hadn't even crossed his mind to even consider.

"It was incredibly interesting," Narcissa continued. "It seems I'm not the only one taking steps to have Draco released from the Ministry. And of course she confirmed the story that was published in the Daily Prophet regarding the relationship between you and Draco."

Her gaze was suddenly uncomfortable and Harry shifted in his seat, feeling heat rising in his face, wondering if he were about to get a tongue lashing from Narcissa for his involvement with her son. He knew there were a hundred potential objections to their relationship and contemplated how many she were about to bring up.

"I want to hear it from you, Mister Potter," she said very quietly. "What is going on with you and Draco?"

He looked at her elegant face and saw the worry clearly expressed there. His mind was a confusing jumble of memories and feelings towards the woman sat before him. He remembered well Narcissa's risky actions during the final battle war, actions designed to save Draco and which had by consequence saved Harry as well. In conflict with that though, he was also remembering Draco's words about his mother…' _One minute she's so happy that I'm still alive, and the next I think I remind her too much of Lucius and she doesn't want me to be anywhere near her…_ '

"Harry," he said suddenly. "Call me Harry."

"As you wish," she said and then smiled weakly. "Don't look so frightened. I'm not here with a hidden agenda, I'm here to help."

"Help? How can you help?" Harry asked.

"Please, Harry," she asked. "Before we move on, I need to know what this is between you and Draco."

Harry eyed her for one long moment and she sighed, looking away and turning to the tea set that was once again sat on McGonagalls desk.

"I wonder that Draco has spoken to you about me," she said, carefully pouring two drinks. "I imagine by the look on your face that it hasn't set me in a particularly favourable light."

Harry felt uncomfortable all over again as she hit the nail on the head, pinpointing exactly what he was thinking. She was almost as much as a conundrum as Draco himself; a force of beauty, pride and power mixed with love, worry and a deep desperation to have her son home and safe.

"He said…he thought he reminded you too much of Lucius," Harry said slowly and her hands visibly shook as she lowered the teapot.

"He does," she said softly, regaining her composure and passing him a drink which he took, wondering for only a moment about the safety of drinking something passed to him by Narcissa Malfoy. "Some days that was too much to bear," she continued. "You of all people can imagine how it feels, to have your other half taken away from you. And having a living, breathing reminder in front of me…"

Harry stopped still at her words and looked up at her. The expression she wore was pained and he suddenly realised how this must be for her; to have lost Lucius who despite his faults was her still husband, had been her lifelong companion and lover nevertheless. And now to be on the brink of losing Draco, too- Harry couldn't imagine it.

"Draco…he was a nightmare," she confessed, and her eyes were staring at the tea set without really seeing, seeming to be talking to herself as much as Harry. "After the war. He became unmanageable, he would lash out at the slightest word, and the things he would say…in that respect he was just like Lucius. He knew exactly what to say to hurt me most of all, and he did so without hesitating."

She blinked and then looked at Harry once again. "I'm not trying to excuse my actions, Harry. I know I let Draco down enormously. I just hope that if you and I understand one another a little better, we can work together to get him out of this mess."

"I love him," Harry said quietly, the words slipping unbidden from his mouth. He turned his earnest green eyes onto hers, so like Draco's in colour and willed her to believe him. "And I know what Draco can be like."

She nodded and swallowed, breathing in and out deeply. When she spoke again, her voice was level. "So. I have been honest with you. Now may I ask how this relationship came about?" she asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Harry said cautiously, opting not to tell Narcissa the exact details of the brawls that had let up to his and Draco's first kiss. "One day we were fighting, and then it all just changed. He's always been a part of my life, and now, I need him to be."

"I've always known Draco would only be happy settled with another man," she admitted. "His Father was adamant it was just a phase…but I knew. Although it reached a time where I wasn't sure that I would get to see him happy."

"He was happy," Harry said quietly. "With me. At least I think he was."

"Please, Harry," Narcissa said. "Draco may be excellent at telling lies when the occasion calls for it, but when it comes to his emotions and feelings…especially concerning you and him…if you two were together and he seemed happy, then he was."

Harry gave her a grateful smile which she returned, before clapping her hands together briskly. "Now, enough of that. Let us discuss what to do about the current predicament. Pansy tells me you have been compiling evidence to appeal for Draco's release?"

"Yes," Harry said immediately, glad to be moving away from the somewhat awkward topic of his and Draco's relationship. "We've got his probation documents, the war report, his detention file, the lot, and we're putting together an appeal file-"

"I don't think that will be enough," Narcissa said bluntly and Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach- "Which is why I have told our lawyer to request a formal appeal before the Wizengamot. We can present your evidence formally and not give them the option if ignoring us."

"You did, really?" Harry asked, trying to keep up. "But that's going to be expensive-"

"Not something for you to worry about," she said firmly. "I would give every Galleon I possess to have Draco back."

Harry nodded. "Me too. But I don't see how it will be that different…"

"Think about it," she said. "We will be there, speaking to them _face to face_. You are the Chosen One, the face of the new order; half blood, friend to all, saviour of wizard-kind. Your presence will be a delight to the Wizengamot, most especially to the younger liberal members."

"But I'm just- they'll just think I'm a school kid-" Harry began.

"Which is where I come in," she said, and there was a sparkle in her eye. "Consider _me_ as the representative of the _old_ order; pure-blood, conservative, wealthy. Between us we'll appeal to both wings of the Wizengamot."

"But…" Harry said hesitantly. "After what Lucius did-"

"Me saving your life during the war has done a great deal to help the Malfoy name," she said matter-of-factly. "Seeing me and you as a united front will remind everyone of that, and there will be fewer objections to the Malfoy name with your presence alongside us."

Comprehension was slowly dawning in Harry like a rising sun, filling him with hope. "So-"

"So you will play the part of the eager hero and I will provide the weight behind you," she said smartly. "I have plenty of…contacts, that I believe I can request assistance from. I have a few old debts to collect as well with certain individuals…"

Trepidation shot through Harry as he speculated just what debts and contacts Narcissa Malfoy would have, but pushed the thought firmly out of his mind. She wouldn't do anything to risk the appeal, to risk the chance of freeing Draco. He chose to address another problem that was niggling at the back of his mind instead.

"I don't want to use my name…" Harry faltered.

"Which is why it won't just be you. I intend to ask Blaise Zabini to attend the appeal to do most of the talking. You will merely be our hidden ace, if you excuse the metaphor."

"But…that's _brilliant,_ " Harry said. "That means they won't- that if we can get all the stuff together, then we should be able to get Draco back!"

"Hopefully," Narcissa inclined her head. "What can you tell me about your research so far?"

"Erm," Harry said, scratching his head and feeling a little embarrassed. "To be honest…Hermione has been in charge if it, she probably knows more than me."

"Hermione Granger?" Narcissa asked.

"Yes," Harry inwardly winced, wondering if the word _Mudblood_ was crossing Narcissa's mind. If it did, she showed no sign of it.

"Would you approve of me contacting her to discuss it then?"

"Yeah, course," Harry said, a little taken aback and then biting back a grin as he thought about the look on Hermione's face when she received post from Narcissa Malfoy.

"Well then, that's agreed. I will be more than willing to work alongside you and your friends, now I am sure that we are working towards the same end. But now I must leave to pass the information onto our lawyer," she said, and rose as the discussion came to an end. Harry stood up hastily and held out his hand, which she took in both of hers, holding it lightly.

"Please don't think too badly of me for my failures concerning Draco," she said so quietly she almost didn't catch her words. "I will go to the ends of the Earth to make up for them."

He squeezed her hand tightly in reply and she inclined her head in goodbye. "Await my owl, Harry."

He nodded and then he left the room, getting as far as the bottom of the staircase before giving into the mad urge and excitement that which had now possessed him, breaking through him like a firework, and running as fast as he could back up to the tower. When he got there his lungs felt like they were on fire and as he staggered up the last steps he saw that most of the group were there, talking excitedly, all wrapped in dressing gowns or still wearing their pyjamas. As he crashed into the room, swinging around the banister in a most ungraceful manner, they all turned to look at him, looking expectant and excited.

"Narcissa Malfoy," he panted, his hands on his knees and bending over to try and get his breath back. "Paying. Formal appeal. Getting high profile people together. Wizengamot."

He waved their immediate questions away, his hand above his head as he gave up on trying to talk, a stitch burning in his chest and his knees wobbling.

"But that's brilliant!" Hermione's voice said suddenly.

"What I said," Harry wheezed.

Hermione ignored him. "Everyone _knows_ she saved your life in the final battle and they won't ignore that fact if you're both there, and if she's paying for a full blown formal appeal- this might just work!"

"Well who knew, Galleons will get you everywhere," Ron said good naturedly, clapping Harry on the back.

"Harry Potter teaming up with Lady Malfoy," Zabini said, shaking his head. "God, I would not like to be in your way when you get going."

"You're coming too," Harry managed to say, straightening up and rubbing his side. "You're nominated speaker for us. I'm just there as backup."

"That's even better!" Hermione gasped, drowning out Blaise's indignant protest. "Then no-one can accuse Harry of using his name or focus too much on the relationship as a negative!"

"You really think having Lady Malfoy up there will be a good thing?" Seamus asked, his brow furrowed, voicing the very same worry Harry had done to Narcissa earlier.

"Yes," Pansy replied before Harry could. "She's still seen as the elite in pure blood circles, which a lot of the Wizengamot are still from. Now Lucius is gone and after it became public knowledge that she saved Potter's life, she's managed to keep right at the top. Everyone blames Lucius for all the bad stuff, the general impression is that she just got dragged along with it."

"Wow," Seamus said, looking impressed. "That must have taken some political genius to pull off."

"You don't know half of it," Blaise snorted and Pansy smiled knowingly. "She did a lot to prove the Malfoy name after the war, to stop it being dragged down. And she managed that _despite_ what Lucius did and Draco's temper tantrums. She's incredible, that woman."

"Yes, everyone knows about your crush on Draco's Mother," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Lucky Draco's not here or he'd hex you."

"I wish Draco _was_ here," Blaise said fervently. "Oh Merlin, the look on his face when he finds out his Mother has been talking to his boyfriend behind his back."

The group laughed and Harry tried to look annoyed but he couldn't, he felt too damn optimistic to get angry about anything right then. Things were still definitely bad, but now they had a light at the end of the tunnel, as long as they could pull this appeal off.

"Oh, by the way," he called over the laughter "Hermione, she'll be contacting you about the research we've done. I said you would know most about it."

The laughter increased at the look of shock that crossed Hermione's face at the prospect of communication with Narcissa. "But, I'm a Muggle-born! She knows that! Why on earth would Narcissa Malfoy contact me?" she protested.

"That doesn't matter anymore," Harry said. "You should have seen her, she wants Draco back more than I do."

"About time she stepped up," Pansy sniffed and Harry nodded, although sending her a reproachful look.

"I think it's been hard on her," he said and Pansy looked at him, nodding her had fractionally, conceding the point. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is she _is_ helping and we're going to get him back."

* * *

Hermione, Blaise and Harry received owls from Narcissa two days later. Blaise's requested him to be the nominated speaker for Draco's peers at the appeal which he immediately replied to in the affirmative. Hermione's letter was longer; the first half a declaration of Narcissa's wish to put aside previous differences and work together to help Harry and Draco. The second half asked earnestly about what they had achieved so far in terms of information for the appeal. Hermione had written an even longer reply and duplicated her notes to send back to Narcissa and the lawyer who was helping, a stern man named Atticus Dietrich who would also be contacting them regularly. Harry's letter merely told him that a 'specialist' would be coming to see him that afternoon, and he were to go to the hospital wing at 2 O'clock to meet them.

The specialist turned out to be a Healer who specialised in treating damage inflicted by Dark Magic. She briefly introduced herself as Healer Lee before telling Harry to sit down and remove his shirt before commencing an examination so fierce that it bordered on torture. The inspection was much more brutal than the examinations Madam Pomfrey normally gave, and that was saying something.

"What are you doing this for?" Harry winced as she stepped around him and jabbed her wand into his back.

"Checking no-one has cursed you," Lee replied shortly, jabbing her wand higher and making him yelp. She was certainly much sterner than her minute figure would lead people to believe and Harry made a vow never to judge anyone by size ever again.

"It's so you have written proof that Malfoy hasn't cursed you or done anything to harm you since you've been together," Pomfrey explained from where she was stood at the end of the hospital bed, making notes on a form as Lee conducted the examination. "And so far no traces of the Imperius curse, of love potions, or of memory charms."

"Oh, right," Harry said, unable to say anything further as Lee slipped an instrument into his mouth that looked something like a thermometer, expect it had strange symbols up the side and glowed bright purple before changing colour to a vibrant green.

"You've been exposed to a lot of Dark Magic in your time," Lee noted.

Pomfrey made a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat. "Of course he has, he's Harry Potter," she scoffed. Harry grinned around the instrument that was now glowing red. He could tell that Pomfrey was a little nettled at the intrusion of this 'specialist' in her hospital wing, even though she had been told Lee was only conducting the examination as a formality to please the Wizengamot.

"Oh yes," Lee replied. "The good news is that I can confirm none of it dates to being more recent than a year ago and none of that carries Draco Malfoy's magical signature."

"Ow 'an oo ell?" Harry asked and the Healer pulled the instrument out of his mouth, looking impatient.

"The Ministry has his wand," she told him. "I made a record of the signature from that."

She cast one last charm over him and he was enveloped in a hazy blue light which prickled over his skin but faded quickly and left him feeling like he'd just stepped out of doors on a very cold day without his clothes on.

"All done. Shirt back on and off you go," she said briskly.

He didn't hang about. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it back over his head, running out of the hospital wing before they could change their minds or stab him with any more instruments or wands. He had barely gotten out of the doorway before running headlong into Blaise Zabini on the way out.

"Potter!" Blaise panted, sounding like he'd been running, and waving a scroll in Harry's face. "They've done it, they've got a date for the appeal! Full Wizengamot with the Minister presiding."

"What? When?" Harry asked, grabbing for the scroll.

"Five days," Blaise said and Harry's jaw dropped.

"How did they get it to come through that fast?" He asked in shock. "Hermione said they'd take nearly a month-"

"I don't know how she did it but its either five days or five weeks from now and she said it couldn't wait," Blaise said urgently. "I've been to McGonagall, we're off timetable for the next week as long as we catch up when the appeal's over. You've got to come up to the common room, Dietrich just firecalled Granger and she's gone _mad._ "

"Good mad, or bad mad?" Harry asked as they started walking, his eyes frantically scanning the scroll that confirmed that the trial would be in five days, at 10am next Thursday, with the whole Wizengamot in attendance and Kingsley Shacklebolt presiding over the event.

"Crazy mad, like that look she gets before exams," Blaise said. "It's like she's mobilizing the troops, its complete chaos! Everyone's jumped in; Longbottom is about to have a nervous breakdown, Theo is about to go blind from trying to read the whole of that Latin book with the tiny print and Pansy just threw a book at Finnegan. Weasley's trying to restore order-"

Harry broke into a run with Blaise hot on his heels. He got to the common room in a matter of minutes and saw Blaise was right; it was close to pandemonium. Someone had moved all the sofas to one side of the common room and a large table had been transfigured in the remaining space. Books, parchment, quills, notes littered the surface and looked all the world like a Muggle conference table, albeit a far bit messier. Hermione and Pansy were stood at one end, arguing over something that was written on a piece of parchment, Ron was sat on a stool reading a book with his hands clamped over his ears, Ernie Macmillan was dictating loudly to what looked like a quick quotes quill, Ginny was feverishly sorting a stack of what he imaged to be photographs into three separate piles and Theo Nott was talking rapidly with Seamus and simultaneously scribbling on a roll of parchment that trailed over the width of the table.

"Harry!" Hermione saw him and looked up, looking anguished. "The appeal-!"

"It's on Thursday, I know," Harry replied, walking over and trying to get everyone's attention. "Guys, I need a word- _guys!_ "

Everyone stopped and looked at him, Neville clambering out from under the table with a book in his hand, much to Harry's bemusement.

"Er- thanks," he said as everyone continued to watch him. "I just wanted to say…I know this is hard, and we've not got long…but I really appreciate you doing this. Really."

"Welcome," Pansy said briefly, turning her eyes back to her work. "Now shut up and let us get on."

Harry grinned as everyone turned back to their work, looking at Hermione once more. "Right, what do we need to do?"

"A lot," she said fervently. "Dietrich just called, he wants _double_ the amount of stuff we've got, more character references and reports and bits and pieces. He's taking over all the legal stuff but still, we've got to make sure this is all airtight by Tuesday."

"Tuesday?" Harry asked, confused. "But-"

"Yes I know it's on Thursday but we've got to have everything sorted in time to go to Dietrich so he can organise it in time," she explained.

"Do you think we can get it done?" he asked worriedly and relief flooded through him as Hermione nodded without hesitation.

"Yes, and with our evidence on top of Dietrich's…he's been beyond amazing," she said in awe. "He's managed to pull holes in almost _every_ negative account of the Malfoy's that the Ministry ever released, as well as finding some evidence that Draco's parole wasn't considered properly in terms of International Regulations. Something about him not being of age for half the discretions his parole mentions, but he was considered as an adult when the parole was actually written up."

"That's brilliant," Harry said. "What else?"

"Narcissa has pulled out all the stops," Hermione informed him. "Not only has she paid for that specialist that saw you today, but she's managed to somehow get the top mental-malady Healer from Saint Mungo's to testify that the _Ministry_ are the ones responsible for Draco's behaviour because they didn't offer him any post-war counselling or charm therapy."

"She can do that?" Harry asked, amazed.

"She's a Malfoy, she can do what she wants," Blaise chipped in from behind them and Harry couldn't help grinning.

"She also told me to tell you that you aren't to worry…" Hermione hesitated. "And that she's found another 'ace' and is coming on Tuesday to discuss it with you. I have no idea what she means."

"She didn't tell you what it is?" Harry asked, distracted.

"No, that's all she said," Hermione replied, leaning over and picking up a sheet of parchment which she thrust at Harry. "Now _this_ is a list of all the questions Dietrich thinks the Wizengamot might want to ask you, read them and think of what you might say in response other than 'um'."

"Yes boss," Harry replied, and obediently sat at the table and started to read.

 

* * *

 

The next few days were a blur to Harry. He slept only when he felt too exhausted to carry on, often at odd moments throughout the day or night and only for a couple of hours at a time. He ate only when someone plonked something in front of him and threw every fibre of his being into preparing for the appeal.

He still missed Draco terribly and often when he was at his most tired he felt waves of despair rolling through him and convincing him it was useless, that nothing would work, that he wouldn't see Draco again. The misery never lasted long; his resolve was always strengthened by a few hours sleep or calming words from Ron and Hermione, and he would nod and then plunged back into working with an even fiercer determination than before.

It was the knowledge that they weren't working alone that helped them carry on. The measures Narcissa and Dietrich were going to were astronomical, although he was reminded in a letter from Narcissa that it would take both teams of adults and students alike to complete the case for the appeal.

He was awoken on Tuesday from a midday sleep by a knocking on his door. He raised his head feeling groggy and hungry and reached for his glasses as the door opened.

"Mrs Malfoy!" He scrambled into a sitting position, pulling the blankets up to his chin as Narcissa walked in, carrying a tray in her hands.

"I've told you- _Narcissa_ ," she said sternly, putting the tray on his beside table. "They told me you were sleeping but I couldn't wait, I need to see Atticus and some people from the Ministry this afternoon."

"That's fine, it's OK," Harry said, blushing nevertheless. He reached onto the floor to pick up a stray T-shirt and pulled it over his head, feeling a little better when he was covered up.

"These rooms are nice," Narcissa commented, looking around with genuine interest. "I assume Draco shares with Blaise?"

"Yeah, he does," Harry nodded.

"Eat," she said, gesturing to the tray which he now saw held a plate of chicken salad sandwiches and a flask of pumpkin juice. Harry reached for a sandwich, firstly because he was hungry and secondly he didn't really want to disagree with Narcissa.

He felt he understood her much more than he ever had done in his life. Before she had been in Lucius's shadow, standing silently in the background and seemingly bending to his will. Now Harry could see the strength she possessed, not only in how she was working to free Draco but also the courage she held in admitting of her failures, and her desire to put them right.

"I wanted to show you something, before the appeal," she said as he ate, pulling something out of her bag. It was a book, a battered blue book bound in leather which looked like it had seen better days.

"What is it?" Harry asked in interest, reaching out for it.

"Draco's journal."

Harry pulled his hand back even as he offered the book to him, a wave of alarm flooding through him. "No way," he shook his head. "If he ever knew I'd read that, he'd kill me."

"Nonsense," she said, still holding the book out towards him. "It won't matter if you see it now anyway, parts of it are going to be made public at the appeal."

"Why?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Because it contains a large amount of evidence that Draco was coerced into taking the Mark, and it was never done under his own volition," she explained. "And it also contains a lot about _you_ and how Draco never wished you harm."

Harry stared at the book, itching to take it and read it but also knowing deep down that he shouldn't, that it was too personal to Draco for him to read.

"I couldn't," he said finally. "I wouldn't want to do that to him. He does talk to me about stuff, but he tells me these things when _he_ wants to. To read his journal would be taking that away from him."

Narcissa lowered the book and smiled at him, a small, lingering smile tempered with sadness. "You know him so well. You cannot begin to understand how relieved I am that Draco has found someone like you to have by his side."

"It's not just me," Harry tried to explain, feeling embarrassed, his blush returning in full force. "He understand me too, better than I understand myself sometimes."

Harry took another sandwich and Narcissa sat quietly, waiting for him to finish.

"That journal…doesn't contain anything recent does it?" Harry asked her casually as he reached for the flask of juice, trying his hardest not to cringe at the thought of Narcissa reading all about his and Draco's sexual encounters.

A smile quirked Narcissa's lips as if she had read his mind. "No. I took this from Draco the moment the Dark Lord made his intention to reside at the Manor clear. Everyone knew of Draco's reluctance, but if these words had ever been found, he would have been punished."

Harry nodded and felt his growing affection for Narcissa Malfoy increase with the inference of how she had protected Draco through every turn in a way Lucius had not.

"So, are you ready? Did you look at the questions Dietrich sent through to Granger?" Narcissa asked.

"Yes, she gave me them the moment they came through," Harry affirmed.

"That girl is quite something, is she not?" Narcissa smiled.

Harry shot her a wary glance and she shook her head at him, continuing. "I see a lot of myself in her," she said unexpectedly. "A lot of determination. She has given me cause to think, this past week, and think hard."

Harry was astounded, at both the praise that Narcissa had given to Hermione and the hint that she was ready to forgive Hermione for the previously intolerable act of being a Muggle-born. Things really could change for the better as they were doing so everywhere; Draco and Narcissa being living examples of the fact.

"I will leave you to sleep then," Narcissa said and rose, brushing off her dress.

"Thank you," Harry said to her earnestly, watching her go.

"One last thing-" she added, pausing in the doorway. "You should probably refrain from telling the Wizengamot that you and Draco have been sleeping together. The more conservative members will not welcome _that_ knowledge."

Harry choked and spluttered, eloquence well and truly abandoning him in the face of Narcissa's casual words. "What- how- we haven't-"

"Oh please," she interrupted and Harry could just imagine her rolling her eyes and was forcibly reminded of Draco. "I know my son. I just hope you two have been conducting yourselves with slightly more decorum than _he_ presents when under the influence of rather expensive French wine."

And then she was gone, shutting the door and leaving Harry well and truly torn between laughter and burying himself in his bedclothes and never, ever coming out.


	22. Chapter 22

The night before the appeal, Harry dreamt of Draco. He dreamt they were fighting at the top of the astronomy tower, shouting and cursing at each other, but Harry couldn't understand why Draco was so upset because Draco was speaking in Latin, and Draco couldn't understand Harry because Harry was speaking in parseltongue. Angry tears had welled up in Draco's eyes and then suddenly the fighting stopped and Harry stepped up to him, softly saying _sorry_ even though Draco wouldn't understand and Draco was apologising quietly in what Harry knew in his dream to be Latin, although in real life he hadn't the faintest idea of what sorry in Latin actually was. And then they were stepping closer together, both feeling so frustrated that they couldn't speak or communicate with words. In his dreams Draco kissed him, holding Harry's face in his hands and at least Harry could understand what that meant so he kissed him back and it was perfect.

 

* * *

 

"Harry, stop it,"

A hand slid onto his restlessly jerking knee and he heard Hermione's gentle whisper that seemed so loud in the heavy silence of the courtroom. He swallowed with difficulty and nodded, his bouncing leg coming to a standstill. He pulled restlessly at the neck of his robes and glanced up at the huge clock that was mounted on the wall behind the stand Kingsley would preside from.

Ten minutes to ten.

They had been here since half past nine and Harry was slowly growing more and more agitated, the nerves intensified by the silence the group had fallen into a few minutes ago. Even the lawyer had stopped muttering notes to his recording quill and flicking through sheets of parchment; now the man sat still as stone on the end of the bench that the appeal team occupied. Next to Dietrich sat Narcissa Malfoy, her pose rigid and impassive, but Harry could see that her eyes, like his, flicked often to the clock, counting down the time until the appeal began. She had been quieter than usual that morning but Harry could understand why.

Eight minutes to go.

Harry wondered how he was going to manage to speak at all, if any questions were levelled his way. His throat felt tight and uncomfortable and his voice sounded strange to his own ears, and every time he spoke he was distracted by the rapid thump of his heartbeat echoing in his ears.

Seven minutes.

Either side of Harry on the smooth wooden bench were Blaise and Hermione, the former looking deceptively calm and collected and the latter chewing her lip agitatedly but looking determined nevertheless. She had been a late addition to the team that would be travelling to the Ministry, the logic being she was a Gryffindor that could vouch for Malfoy without carrying the potentially negative connotations of being romantically involved with him. Blaise was staring down at the single chair that occupied the stone circle in the centre of the room; the chair that Draco would be seated in in six minutes time.

McGonagall, Healer Lee and a woman named Davenport completed the team. Eight people was all they had against the whole of the Wizengamot and the Ministry and there was no way of telling if it would work or not.

Five minutes to go and the door opened, the creaking noise amplified by the stone walls of the room and making Harry jump. The Wizengamot poured in to fill the benches directly opposite theirs, some looking serious, some looking bored and some chattering eagerly to their neighbours. Harry's foot was tapping again; his nerves had increased tenfold and for the hundredth time he wished heartily that he could go back in time and stop Draco breaking that boy's nose. He knew wishing wouldn't do any good, but at this point with the appeal ready to start in only four minutes, he couldn't help himself.

His heart jumped as he saw Kingsley Shacklebolt entering the chamber with two other wizards, all three clad in deep purple robes. One had dark hair and a chubby scowling face and the other was bald and bespectacled. Kingsley looked up to the bench and his eyes met Harry's and he nodded once to him. Harry nodded back shakily and then Kingsley was turning away to talk to one of the wizards, his low rumbling voice audible over the low level chatter even from where Harry was sat.

He glanced along the bench again; Narcissa and Dietrich were speaking quietly to each other, and Harry scanned their faces, desperately trying to work out if they were worried or nervous or scared-

Hermione's hand grabbed his and squeezed his fingers tightly and he heard Blaise's sharp intake of breath on his other side; he turned his head so quickly his neck cracked and then time froze and his heart nearly gave out as he saw who had just entered the courtroom, flanked by two black robed Aurors.

Draco looked exactly the same as when he had left; other than the pain grey clothes he was now wearing. Harry's eyes hungrily took in everything about the blonde; the way he stood straight and tall, his face set in a resolute expression, his hands in loose fists at his sides.

The stone circle in the centre was surrounded by high wooden railings that separated the space for the accused from the pathways that the Wizengamot and witnesses would take, and Draco was taken through a gateway in the railings which was closed and bolted behind him. He was led directly to the chair which he sat down in it without any fuss at all, crossing his arms across his chest. One of the Aurors motioned for him to put his hands on the arms of the chair- which Harry knew could bind him in place - but Draco shot the Auror a look of undisguised disgust and incredulity and didn't unfold his arms. Harry held his breath but the Auror just shrugged and moved away to sit at the base of the podium Kingsley was on, alongside his partner.

"That's Draco," Blaise breathed next to Harry, shaking his head and Harry gave him a small smile. Harry squeezed Hermione's hand tightly, a fierce rush of pride mingled with exasperation running through him.

Draco's head turned left to the assembled Wizengamot and then his bright eyes travelled over to Kingsley, looking wary. Then his head finally turned towards them and he froze. Pure shock ran over his face and he stared, open mouthed at the team of people that were sat there. His eyes ran along the row and met Harry's and Harry thought his heart would break right then at the look in Draco's eyes. He wanted to jump down off the bench and hold him and just get him the hell out of here but he forced himself to sit still. With difficulty he took a deep breath in and calmed himself down. His eyes still fixed on Draco's, he nodded at him to try and get him to understand and to keep steady. Draco nodded back and his eyes slowly flicked along the row of people before returning to Harry and there they stayed, simply looking at him.

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away. He would willingly bet that Draco had no idea they were all coming here today, or even if he knew that what was happening was a formal appeal. His expression was tempered with a slight frown and Harry could just imagine him asking ' _what the hell is this all about, Potter?'_ Harry gave him a hesitant smile and Draco's face softened, giving Harry a small, weak smile in return.

Silence suddenly fell over the room and Draco looked quickly away up at the Ministers podium. Harry followed suit and saw Kingsley had stood up, waiting to address the room at large.

"We are here today for the formal appeal of Draco Malfoy, commissioned on request of Narcissa Malfoy," he said, his voice carrying easily and echoing slightly off the stones. The appeal in question is in regards to a pending six year Azkaban term as a result of breached parole."

Harry's stomach clenched painfully and his eyes shot back to Draco who was staring up at Kingsley, looking completely unsurprised. Six years. If this didn't work, Draco would be gone for _six years_. And not just in some Ministry holding cell, but to Azkaban. Whilst it was no longer as awful as it used to be since the departure of the Dementors, it was still a grim place nevertheless and Harry couldn't stand the thought of Draco being sent there.

Kingsley continued speaking and Harry made himself look back towards him. "Present for appeal team are Narcissa Malfoy, Atticus Dietrich, Jun Lee, Minerva McGonagall, Frederica Davenport, Harry Potter, Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger."

A small murmur went around the Wizengamot and Harry knew it was because he was there- he felt uncomfortable as hundreds of eyes flickered over him, probably wondering why he was there and if the stories in the papers were actually true.

"It is understood that Draco has breached parole set by the Ministry of Magic, parole set after his involvement in the war, notably as a Death Eater," Kingsley said and there was another murmur, smaller this time. Hermione's hand clenched on Harry's and he knew she was willing him to keep his temper and not react badly to anything they would say.

"And this parole was breached on numerous occasions by his behaviour at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

Harry tuned out the sound of Kingsley naming all of Draco's indiscretions over the years, only vaguely aware that his name was mentioned on more than one occasion. He couldn't help but watch Draco who seemed just as happy to ignore Kingsley's words as Harry was, barely listening as he looked back at Harry.

Harry only came round to listen when he heard a different voice speaking- it was Dietrich, which surely meant that this was the moment, that this was the important stuff, the start of their chance to clear Draco's name-

"We are appealing against Draco Malfoy's Azkaban term on several grounds," Dietrich said, sounding if anything, a little bored. "Firstly, on the grounds that his probation that was set by the Ministry defied several international regulations, including clauses 78, 79 and 81. Secondly we are appealing on the grounds that the Ministry itself was negligent as Draco received little or no care in terms of Mental Malady after the war, and thirdly that he has been victim to serious character misrepresentation."

If Draco was surprised by any of these revelations he didn't show it either. He merely looked from Dietrich to Kingsley, waiting for a response.

"Alright," Kingsley conceded and Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "First grounds."

Dietrich plunged into an explanation of the problems with Draco's parole, citing his age as the main factor, which could in effect render his parole terms void to start with. The speech was littered with legal terminology and complicated by-laws which Harry didn't understand. He assumed Hermione did by the way her fingers kept reflexively squeezing his. On more than one occasion Dietrich sent over some pieces of parchment to Kingsley who took them from the air and looked down at them seriously.

"So…" Kingsley said slowly. "To sum up for the members of the Wizengamot…you're telling me that Malfoy was given adult probation terms for crimes he committed whilst not of age?"

"Not all crimes," Dietrich said. "The crimes contained in the report fall either side of Draco's seventeenth birthday, though yes, he was tried as an adult for all of them. I'd like to draw attention to the fact that the most noted 'crime', as it has been labelled, came before he was seventeen."

"The Dark Mark…" Kingsley said and Dietrich inclined his head in confirmation.

"Mister Malfoy, please confirm the existence of such a Mark," the round dark haired wizard on the left of Kingsley said and Harry felt a surge of rage. He knew they were only making him show it to try and prove a point, but Draco simply nodded and pulled up the sleeve of his left arm to show Kingsley the mark. The wizard who had told Draco to show his mark looked down on Draco on grim satisfaction and Harry wanted to punch him in his stupid fat face.

"So Malfoy was tried as an _adult_ bearing the Dark Mark would have been..." Kingsley frowned, jotting something on a piece of parchment.

"Even though he was still a minor, yes," Dietrich said. "And that leads me onto my next point," he continued as Kingsley nodded and indicated Draco could push his sleeve back down. "The fact the Ministry tried Draco as an adult who _willingly_ and _without objection_ took up the Mark in indication that they were to follow The Dark Lord."

"And you think he wasn't willing?" The man next to Kingsley asked snappishly.

"Hunter," Kingsley warned quietly and the man fell quiet although continued to scowl.

Dietrich didn't miss a beat. He simply raised his wand and levitated an object over to Kingsley's seat, an object which Harry recognised and felt a thrill of foreboding at seeing again- Draco's journal.

"Would the Minister acknowledge Narcissa Malfoy in order to introduce this piece of evidence?" Dietrich asked and Kingsley nodded.

Draco's eyes snapped to his Mother as she stood up, inclining her head to the Minister. "What you see before you is my son's journal," she said quietly and Harry couldn't help looking to Draco to see how he would react; he had gone a little paler than usual and his jaw was clenched tightly. "Draco wrote in this from the age of thirteen to just before his seventeenth birthday, at which point I removed it from his possession and hid, lest it fall into the wrong hands and endanger his life. The marker you see indicates an entry concerning the Mark."

Kingsley looked truly intrigued as the man to his right flipped through the pages to where Narcissa had marked, and his eyes flickered back and forth and speed as he read, his eyebrows slowly getting higher and higher as he did.

"My son did _not_ take the Mark willingly, or without objection. The Mark was forced upon Draco as punishment for my husbands failures in service to the Dark Lord."

Whispering filled the room and Harry had a moment of panic at why Narcissa was bringing up Lucius, surely that couldn't help- but she was calm and Dietrich was too so Harry had no choice but to trust what they were doing.

"I am not here to try and clear my husband's name," Narcissa called and the room fell silent. "He made his choices, and he paid for them. I simply ask you not to punish my son for choices that were made for him."

Kingsley looked towards the man who was reading and asked him something in an undertone. The man nodded and turned to Draco who was eying him with trepidation.

"Mister Malfoy. Is this your journal?"

Draco bit his lip and then nodded. "Yes."

"Did you write everything in this journal?"

"Yes."

Harry quickly understood: Veritaserum. Draco must be under the influence of the truth potion, and they were checking the validity of the journal as evidence.

"The journal has been checked for both forgery and magical concealment," Dietrich chipped in, waving his wand and sending another piece of parchment over to the podium.

"Entry entitled July 25th," the man with the journal said and Harry saw Draco shut his eyes and his hands twitched as if resisting the urge to clamp his hands over his ears. "Tomorrow, they're going to make me- expletive- do it, I just know it. I've managed to keep out the way but Mother looks terrified and everyone keeps giving me- expletive- looks like they know something I don't. I didn't want this, I don't- expletive- want this, I want out. How the- expletive- do you get out when your Father is Lucius Malfoy. This is all his- expletive- fault and I'm sick of being dragged along for the ride."

Silence fell following the brief excerpt from Draco's journal.

"Are we to believe that when you said 'I don't want this' you were referring to the Mark?" Kingsley asked to Draco.

"Yes," he muttered, not looking up.

"So you never wanted to take the Mark?" the man on the opposite side to Hunter asked. Harry warmed towards the bespectacled man; he seemed to be genuinely concerned about Draco's welfare and his questions were composed and non-threatening.

"No," Draco said forcefully. "Never."

"Then why let them do it?"

"I didn't want to be murdered," Draco said blandly.

"Why not escape, come to the Ministry for help?" The man persisted.

"The Ministry was on the brink of collapse," Draco said and the man nodded in understanding. "I had no-where to go. I made the best out of a bad situation."

"Concerning Albus Dumbledore…" Kingsley said and Draco visibly went even paler.

"I've told you all this before," Draco said violently. "I never would have hurt him, I _didn't_ hurt him."

"But your actions undoubtedly led to his death," Hunter butted in.

"I was stuck. I had gotten backed into a corner and I had no choice," Draco said. "That night, Dumbledore offered me amnesty and I was a second away from saying yes but Snape got there before I could return his wand…"

Draco trailed off, shaking his head and folding his arms tightly across his chest and Harry could clearly tell Draco did _not_ want to say anything more about this issue. There was murmuring within the stands of the Wizengamot again and Harry saw the huge range of expressions there. Some looked hard and unyielding, some looked slightly sickened and some looked pitying and understanding.

Thankfully Kingsley and the others seemed to want to move on from the topic too. "We will keep this, incase we need to refer to it in later discussion," Kingsley said, tapping the journal and Narcissa nodded and sat back down.

"What next, Dietrich?"

"The terms of the parole that Draco broke, if we take a moment to consider them as valid even though they may not be," Dietrich answered promptly. As if on cue, McGonagall and Davenport both rose.

"Headmistress, Malfoy has given you cause for concern on more than one occasion, hasn't he?" Hunter said, leaning forwards over the edge of the podium.

"Yes, that cannot be denied," McGonagall replied in clipped tones.

"And hasn't he displayed unacceptable behaviour on more than one occasion? Fighting with students? Breaking someone's nose? Fighting with Harry Potter no less?"

"Yes," McGonagall replied calmly. "I am not here to deny his actions. I am here however, to categorically state in the weeks leading up to his arrest Mister Malfoy made marked and noticeable progress concerning his attitude."

"But he still broke someone's nose," Hunter frowned, "the day before we collected him from Hogwarts."

"That incident was not typical," McGonagall said. "There had been an altercation between the boy in question and Mister Potter here, and Mister Malfoy became involved."

There was a collective intake of breath and Harry felt eyes snapping to him again.

"Mister Potter's involvement will be addressed later," Kingsley said firmly to quell the muttering, his eyes scanning a sheet of parchment. "Minerva, have you anything else to add?"

"Yes," McGonagall said. "I have reason to believe, and my opinion on this matter is shared by Healer Davenport here, that Draco's behaviour was worsened as a result of negligence by the Ministry."

There was close to uproar at her words- Hunter started shouting, many members of the Wizengamot were on their feet and Kingsley shouted for silence.

"Explain?" he said shortly but not unkindly. McGonagall looked to Davenport who promptly took over.

"Is it not Ministry policy to offer any victims of war charm therapy or mental-malady counselling after traumatic events?" she asked clearly.

Kingsley nodded. "It is."

"Then why, after the war when he was acquitted and given parole, was Mister Malfoy not offered any such help or treatment?"

The silence that followed was deafening. The clock on the wall loudly ticked away the seconds in which the whole Wizengamot stared up at Davenport, looking collectively stunned.

"To be honest, I have no idea Ma'am," Kingsley said slowly.

"You should look into that," she said politely and then sat back down.

That was it? She had come all this way to say three sentences? Harry wanted her to keep speaking, he inwardly begged her to say more to make sure they all understood, to drive the point home so they couldn't ignore it-

"Minerva, what do you think?" Kingsley asked.

"I think that with adequate help and maybe even with a term in Saint Mungo's, Mister Malfoy would not have behaved as such and we would not need to be here."

"You can't prove that, though," a voice said from the ranks of the Wizengamot.

"No, unfortunately we can't," McGonagall said.

"You vouched for him once already and he proved you wrong," Kingsley said, frowning. "Why would you vouch for him again?"

"I have already said that his behaviour in the past few weeks indicated he was improving. I would hate for that positive trend to be cut short-"

"A positive trend?" Hunter asked sceptically. "He broke-"

"Hunter, that will do," Kingsley said and the man sullenly fell silent.

"I would like to question Mister Zabini and Miss Granger," Kingsley said suddenly. "In regards to your allegation of misrepresentation of character."

Dietrich nodded and Harry let go of Hermione's hand as she and Blaise stood up, both looking nervous.

"Mister Zabini, if you will," Kingsley said.

Harry was taken aback- what was Zabini meant to say? Weren't they going to ask him questions? Zabini seemed unperturbed through and turned and bowed to the Wizengamot, before speaking.

"Draco has been my friend for eight years," he said calmly and levelly so the jury had to sit still and stop whispering to hear him. "And I don't think he belongs in Azkaban. He's gotten himself involved in some spectacular messes over the years, up to and including this one, but he has never started out with the intention of hurting anyone. He never wanted to hurt anyone." He paused and looked out over the ranks of the Wizengamot. "Draco was always under pressure when he was growing up, and that pressure led him down bad roads to places he didn't want to be."

"Is it true that he tried to sabotage Harry Potter's attempts to conquer the Dark Lord during the war?" a voice from the benches asked and Harry nearly shot to his feet but Hermione got there first.

"No," she said quietly and nervously. "Draco saved our lives. The testimony we gave to the Ministry says that."

"How?" the voice asked.

"The testimony already states that," Hermione said. "It is on file in the Ministry for anyone who wishes to read it in full. But the bottom line is that Draco saved our lives and without him, we wouldn't have been able to win the war."

"A summary of actions during the war," Dietrich said, languidly levitating a piece of parchment over to Kingsley.

"What is he like in school, Miss Granger?" Hunter asked her, eyeing her critically.

"Quiet mostly. Keeps to himself unless someone gives him cause to speak out," she said and Harry inwardly praised her choice of words.

More questions were fired at Blaise and Hermione, some designed to wrong-foot them but never succeeding. Most of them were genuinely curious questions, asking about Draco's character and how he had changed. Hermione presented a whole sheaf of reports from students and professors in the school and Kingsley flicked through them looking suitably impressed.

The last question was aimed at Hermione, by the man who had read out Draco's journal entry. "I read here that the original appeal file was put together by you, Miss Granger. Why was that?"

"I have not been friends with Draco for long, but I know him well enough to realise he doesn't belong in Azkaban," Hermione said clearly and Harry couldn't help noticing Draco staring at her, his expression tempered with gratitude.

"But why you?" the wizard persisted. "It is common knowledge that before the war you were not friends at all, some may even call you enemies-"

"Those days are far behind us, Sir," Hermione said. "When you go through what we did…it makes you understand each other. I won't lie and say that Draco had always been our friend because that wasn't always the case. But now I know him better, I understand why he behaved the way he did."

"So you took charge of his appeal…"

"Because his closest friends were distraught that you had taken him away without so much as a warning," Hermione said calmly. "Someone had to do it, and I knew a bit about the appeal process from what I'd read. I'm glad I did it."

The man inclined his head and then his eyes turned to Harry who swallowed thickly, knowing what was coming next. He stood up next to Hermione, feeling clumsy and uncoordinated, looking resolutely away from Draco.

"Mister Potter," the man began with a small smile. "Let us cut to the chase. You must be aware that there are reports circulating saying that you are in a relationship with Mister Malfoy?"

The frantic whispering and scribbling of quills started again and Harry swallowed again. "It's true."

The man looked at him for a beat and then continued, despite the whispering increasing. "And that relationship is under your own volition?"

"Yes," Harry said again.

"The concern has been put forth that you may be in danger whilst in the company of Mister Malfoy," Kingsley said slowly. "Some of the Aurors have put forth requests to have Malfoy removed from Hogwarts and away from you. Have you ever felt in danger whilst in Malfoy's presence?"

"No," Harry said quickly.

"It says here you two have been caught fighting on more than one occasion-" Hunter chipped in, fervently searching for a piece of parchment.

"Yeah we fight," Harry began, glancing down at Draco whose eyes were widening, looking alarmed. "But only as far as any other couple would. I know he would never, ever do me harm or cause anything bad to happen to me. Now it's different- yeah we fight, but it's never anything serious, just those stupid things that you argue about when you're in a relationship. We've both been through a lot, and we understand each other better than most people do. I trust him and he trusts me."

"How do you know this? How can you trust him?" Hunter persisted.

"I just do," Harry said. "You can't explain feelings Sir, there are some things you just know."

"And how do we know you weren't manipulated into this relationship? Imperius curse or something? We know that Malfoy knows how to cast the Imperius-"

"Presenting Healer Lee," Dietrich interrupted, sounding as bored as ever.

She stood up smartly and bowed. "I gave Mister Potter a full and thorough check for Dark Magic using the most advanced techniques available as developed and approved by the Ministry itself. Record for the past twelve months was clean and none of it carries Malfoy's magic signature. No Imprerius curse, no love potions, no memory charms, nothing that could force Potter to be in a relationship he didn't want to be in."

"This is your report?" Kingsley asked, holding up a sheet of green parchment and Healer Lee nodded. "Hai. Yes."

"OK thank you," Kingsley said and Lee sat back down. "I think that's all we need- anything else to add, Dietrich?" Kingsley asked.

"No, not from us," Dietrich said. "You have copies of all our reports and testimonies."

"That we do," Kingsley said in clear approval, shuffling papers on his desk, and then paused.

"Mister Malfoy," he said clearly and Draco looked quickly up at him. "Anything you would like to add?"

Draco looked genuinely surprised for the first time that morning and then looked to Harry, then his Mother, then back at Harry. He nodded.

Kingsley gestured for him to start speaking and he stood up warily, eyeing the Aurors at the base of the podium. He bowed in the direction of the Wizengamot and then after a moments hesitation, he spoke.

"For a long time I didn't think I deserved another chance," he said quietly and the whole room was straining to catch his every word. "But in the last few months I've learned a lot about love and loyalty and all those important things that I think I'd missed out on before. I want my life back…because I think I can actually do some good with it. And not just for myself."

Silence fell and Kingsley eyed Draco with an unreadable expression on his face. Harry couldn't tell if he believed Draco or not. Other members of the Wizengamot were easier to read; some looked sympathetic, some looked sceptical, some looked upset and a few even looked angry.

"Auror Grant?" Kingsley said, leaning over and looking directly down to one of the Aurors who had bought Draco in. The man jerked around and looked up at Kingsley expectantly. "You've been with Malfoy whilst he's been with us, haven't you? What do you think?"

"Me?" Grant asked, looking up and frowning. "Oh, he's brat all right but he's a good kid. Hearts in the right place I reckon."

A few chuckles ran around the room and Harry smiled ruefully at the look of astonishment on Draco's face at the Aurors words. Narcissa was looking down at her son and there was no mistaking the pride and love in her gaze.

"I think an adjournment is in order. We will examine these reports and evidence a while longer and then we can make an informed decision as to whether Malfoy poses a threat to himself or others, or whether an Azkaban sentence will be necessary," Kingsley said thoughtfully. "Dietrich, your team may leave."

Harry stood up as the others did, bewildered and panicking. That was it? They weren't going to find out straight away? Christ, he'd not said enough, none of them had said enough- they should have explained more clearly what they meant, about how Draco had helped them during the war…

The Wizengamot were in full blown conversation with one another now, and Kingsley was preoccupied talking to Hunter who seemed agitated. Harry blindly followed Blaise down from the bench and as they reached the floor level his heart leapt as he saw Draco stood right on the other side of the high wooden barricade that separated the stone circle from the walkways and raised benches. Draco was looking at him almost desperately, unable to move as the Aurors were stood on either side of him-

Seized by impulse, Harry dived off of the walkway and ran up to the barricade. Draco nimbly sidestepped the Aurors and took a step forwards right up to the railing the moment he saw Harry move towards him and Harry seized his hand and stood as close to him as he could, holding Draco's hand to his chest.

"God I'm glad to see you," Draco said, his fingers laced through Harry's and gripping on for dear life. The Aurors stepped up behind him and one laid a hand on his shoulder but didn't pull him away.

"You too," Harry said fervently. "Sorry we couldn't get here sooner-"

"You did all this?" Draco asked quietly.

"Your Mum and Hermione," Harry told him. "They make a hell of a team. I'll explain more when you're out-"

"If I'm out-" Draco said, an edge to his voice.

"When," Harry replied firmly and Draco's grip tightened on his hand-

"Mister Potter, time to go," a quiet voice said and a Ministry guard was behind him, gently putting a hand on his elbow to steer him away.

"Go, don't get yourself in trouble," Draco said and Harry nodded, letting go of Draco's hand with some difficulty.

"You better still want me in six years," Draco called as Harry stepped backwards.

"I'll see you soon," Harry said forcefully, ignoring Draco's words and trying to keep calm as he walked away backwards, still looking the blonde in the eye. He had to tear his eyes away as they reached the door and only stopped when he heard a shout.

"Potter!"

He turned in the doorway and saw Draco still against the railings, earnestly staring after him.

"Wait for me?"

Harry met his eyes and he knew in that moment that he would. It could be six weeks or six months or six years and he would still love that damn boy no matter how long he had to wait for him.

" _Yes,_ " he mouthed and Draco smiled weakly at him before a body stepped up behind Harry, blocking his view and then he was bustled from the room and the door shut with an audible and disconcerting thud, leaving Draco and his fate sealed inside, just out of his reach.

Harry stood still, breathing out heavily, shivering despite being out of the cold courtroom and in the warmer air of the corridor. It was out of his hands now. All they had left to do was wait.


	23. Chapter 23

"I should have said about the fight, how I was involved," Harry said urgently, resuming his pacing in front of the fire. "Or more about the wand thing during the war, I don't think they understood-"

"For Merlins sake, Potter, sit down! You're driving me spare!" Pansy snapped and Harry came to a startled standstill on the rug.

"I'm sorry," he said helplessly. "I just thought that we'd know straight away-"

"There's nowt for it," Seamus said, skilfully shuffling a deck of cards in his hands and dealing them out to Blaise, Ron, Ernie and Neville. "We'll just have to wait it out, there's nothing more to do-"

Harry slumped onto a sofa with a groan and Hermione pulled him into a one armed hug, rubbing his side reassuringly. "We did everything we could," she said. "Dietrich said it went well and he thinks-"

"We were barely there for an hour!" Harry said. "There's no way-"

"Stop it," Ron interjected firmly, picking up his hand of cards. "Worrying won't get you anywhere."

"It was short though," Blaise said slowly. "I thought we'd be there all damn day."

"Well the Wizengamot probably will be. They didn't need us there for them to argue it out," Hermione said. "I've read that it's common for appeals to go like this."

"How long does it normally take?" Harry asked at once.

"Well it depends…" she said, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Anywhere between ten minutes and…well, the record is forty-eight days."

"What?" Harry yelped, and made to stand up even as Hermione grabbed him by his arms to keep him pinned to the sofa.

"Don't make me body bind you-" Pansy threatened and Harry stared at her for a beat and then sighed, letting Hermione push him back against the cushions, feeling despair trickling through him at the thought of not knowing for that long. The twelve hours since the appeal had ended had been hell and he hadn't been at all reassured by Dietrich's understated confidence. At the end of the day Draco _had_ committed crimes and it was up to the Wizengamot to decide if and how he should be punished for them.

This was unbearable. He had _never_ felt this restless and jittery, not even before tasks in the Triwizard tournament. This was a whole different sensation, the waiting for someone to come back to you, someone that you had no idea you would miss this badly until they were gone-

Harry stood up and left the room without a word, suddenly feeling suffocated and stifled. He had to go to bed. He couldn't stand listening to the others discussing the appeal any longer, couldn't bear the way they kept telling him there was nothing more he could do even though he knew it was the truth. He hurriedly went up to his room and the first thing he noticed upon entering was a familiar vial of potion stood on his nightstand with a note bearing Hermione's handwriting underneath it.

_Thought you could do with this tonight._

"Thank you," Harry said in relief, even though she couldn't hear him. Dreamless sleep was just what he needed and this time he didn't hesitate to get into bed, uncork the potion, down it in one and sink almost immediately into oblivion.

 

* * *

 

He woke the following morning after a long and blank nights sleep feeling groggy and disorientated. He had no idea how long he had slept for, or what time of day it currently was. He wondered why he had been awakened so quickly, which wasn't his usual experience with dreamless sleep potions and then realised there was an owl outside his window, tapping patiently on the glass. He stared at it and then jumped out of bed so quickly his legs nearly gave way- this could be news about Draco, this could be the answer-

The owl calmly stood and let him pull the letter off of its leg with shaking hands and then immediately took off out of the window with a soft hoot. He didn't watch it go, instead he tore open the scroll, his eyes scanning furiously and his heart pounding fit to burst.

_Harry,_

_First of all I must apologise for not being able to give you any more information concerning the verdict. I haven't heard anything, though Dietrich is confident it won't be much longer._

_I know what words I have will do little to make you feel better at this point in time. I admit even I am having difficulty staying positive, and the longer this waiting goes on I know the harder it will get._

_Dietrich assures me that the appeal went well for us. I know it seemed short but all our points were recorded and Shacklebolt was definitely interested in what we had to say. Also, Dietrich tells me that your display of affection towards Draco at the end of the appeal was a good move- the Wizengamot could see for themselves the clear bond between you two. Although I doubt very much that the move was a premeditated political manoeuvre on your part._

_This is really why I am writing to you. I saw the way you and Draco looked at each other during the appeal and it makes me so happy to know my son has someone like you by his side, someone who understands him, loves him, and is willing to fight for him. You have given him his life back, and I thank you endlessly for that._

_Keep hoping, Harry._

_Narcissa Malfoy._

He sat down unsteadily on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to feel. He was disappointed that the letter didn't contain any news of Draco's appeal but at the same time the words _were_ comforting and he was grateful to Narcissa for what she had said about him and Draco. It was like getting her blessing and that eased the ache in his chest somewhat, thinking that if Draco were to be released, at least his Mother wouldn't pose a problem.

He heard the door slowly open but didn't look up, his eyes still fixed on the letter.

"News?" Ron's quiet voice asked and Harry shook his head slowly.

"No. Nothing about the appeal," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Has anyone else heard anything?"

"No," Ron said sadly. "Zabini hasn't been to bed and he's in a foul mood this morning so I've left him and Pansy fighting in the common room."

"He hasn't slept at all?" Harry asked and Ron shook his head.

"I'm guessing you only did because you were tanked up on dreamless sleep, right?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure if it's helping though, I feel dead groggy."

"How you feeling aside that?" Ron asked.

"Lost," Harry admitted. "There's nothing I can do and this waiting is driving me insane. I just want to know."

"You think he'll get off?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"I have no idea," Harry said dispiritedly. "I really don't- Narcissa said that Dietrich is confident, but fuck knows."

"It'll be OK," Ron said quietly and then, "Hermione told me what Malfoy said to you when you left. About waiting for him if he does go to Azkaban."

Harry didn't say anything, his mind immediately falling back to the memory of standing with Draco, his hand held in his-

"You love him don't you?" Ron asked and Harry looked up.

"Yeah," Harry replied tiredly. "No idea how _that_ happened, but you know."

Ron started to laugh and Harry smiled with him before joining in, the two of them falling back in peals of laughter. He was glad Ron was there. A bit of laughter was definitely what he needed right now.

 

* * *

 

Harry fell asleep without the aid of dreamless sleep potions that night. He tossed and turned and then when sleep finally claimed him he dreamed of Azkaban. He saw his friends and people he knew being locked behind barred doors and crying and he saw glimpses of white blonde hair at the end of corridors but could never catch him up, finding only cold stone and Dementors lurking in corners-

He woke bathed in cold sweat and immediately reached for the potion on his nightstand, his hands trembling uncontrollably and wishing to hell that this was all over.

 

* * *

"Harry-"

A hand was shaking his shoulder and he was slowly and painfully coming back into the land of the living. He blinked and groped for his glasses, shoving them onto his face.

"What?" he croaked.

"No news on Malfoy yet," Ron said swiftly, obliterating any hope Harry might have had before it could even form. "But Neville and Seamus have fetched breakfast from the kitchens and Hermione says you have to eat something."

Harry rubbed his face, yawning. Ron passed him his dressing gown and he pulled it around his shoulders sluggishly.

"Breakfast," he said vaguely. "Yeah."

"Sorry to wake you," Ron chuckled as Harry stood up unsteadily, tying his dressing gown up. "But Hermione's orders, you know how it is. And she made a hint about you getting started on catching up with what you missed…"

Harry shook his head as he followed Ron to the doorway. "Not a chance," he yawned. "I'll do it when I know about Draco."

Ron nodded and they went down into the common room. There, crowded around a low table that was laden with breakfast foods was the whole of the gang that had helped with the appeal, minus Ginny. They were all wearing pyjamas and dressing gowns like Harry and someone had lit the fire to warm the room up.

"Potter, come get something before Pants eats it all," Blaise called and received a smack to the back of the head for his trouble.

"We couldn't have done lunch instead?" Harry grumbled good naturedly; the smell of bacon, eggs and other breakfast goodies was definitely enticing.

"Cant sleep the day away," Ernie said bracingly as Hermione passed him a mug of coffee.

"I could," Harry muttered. "Quite easily."

"Have you heard anything else?" Pansy asked him, pouring out goblets of juice for her and Hermione.

"I've only just woken up," Harry protested. "How could I have heard anything?"

"Something might arrive during breakfast," Hermione said reasonably before Pansy could snap back.

"Hopefully," Pansy said moodily and grabbed the basket of muffins from the centre of the table. Blaise gave Harry an amused look and he shook his head, not wanting to antagonise Pansy any further when she clearly wasn't a morning person. Harry understood though; his own spirits were ebbing with every passing minute that they received no further news about Draco.

"Oh for Merlins sake, who bought this basket up?" she snapped and Neville and Seamus both looked pointedly away. "Apple, apple, chocolate, apricot, chocolate, did no-one think to get any blueberry muffins?"

"There should be one more in there," Neville said quickly, hiding his own half eaten blueberry muffin out of view under the table.

"Only one more?" Pansy asked incredulously, delving to the bottom. "A-ha," she said triumphantly, holding the muffin in question up. She looked at it in satisfaction and was about to take a bite when it flew out of her hand across the room, leaving her open mouthed.

"Like fuck are you having that."

Harry whipped around in astonishment at the sound of that voice, nearly knocking a mug of tea flying, his laughter at Pansy dying on his lips as he went almost numb with shock, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. Draco was stood at the top of the stairs, blueberry muffin in one hand and his wand in the other.

The group fell silent, staring at him standing there in his school shirt, trousers and jumper, looking supremely unconcerned. He raised the muffin to his mouth and then lowered it, frowning as everyone continued to stare.

"What?"

The group exploded- there were shrieks and cheers and clapping and Harry was the first to move; he launched himself over the back of the sofa and ran across the room, grabbing Draco in a rough hug, nearly knocking him back down the staircase.

"Is that 'welcome home?'" Draco asked, holding his hands up in the air, one still holding the muffin, and looking somewhat amused at how Harry was clinging to him with his head buried in Draco's chest.

"Shut up and hug me back," Harry said fiercely, his voice muffled by Draco's jumper.

Draco eyed him for a moment and then he smiled, wrapping his arms around Harry and squeezing him tightly. Harry lifted his head to rest his chin on Draco's shoulder and he felt Draco's breath on his cheek and his lips almost brushing his skin.

"Thank you," he whispered.

There were two thuds either side of them and Harry staggered slightly as Pansy and Blaise ran over, joining in to hug Draco tightly; Blaise swearing loudly and Pansy screaming in delight. Harry held onto him, feeling squashed and deafened but he didn't care. Draco was laughing and that sound was washing away all of the misery and pain of the past couple of weeks, and he knew everything was going to be alright again because Draco was _home_.

Blaise and Pansy stepped back, both beaming and Harry reluctantly shifted away so Draco could shake a thrilled looking Theo Nott's hand, talking rapidly to him. The group had formed a sort of messy circle and Draco was welcomed back on all sides, with handshakes and even a hug from Hermione.

"Thank you all," Draco said, stepping back on the opposite side of the circle to Harry. "I mean it."

"So you're off the hook?" Blaise demanded to know.

"Extended probation for two years," Draco told them. "Less strict than the last lot, so it should be as easy as cheering charms…"

His gaze flicked around the group and then he trailed off as his eyes rested back on Harry's. Harry felt a jolt reminiscent of an electric shock run through him and oh god- it was like Draco's eyes were alight with fire and they were boring into him and heat was rising in his neck and Harry's hands twitched with the effort of holding back from grabbing him right then and there. Draco's smile had faded, replaced with something much more intense, a look that was so much hungrier and Draco held his gaze and unconsciously licked his lip, biting on it and Harry _knew_ he was thinking the same thing. Being apart from him for that long had been fucking torture and he just wanted to be back in his arms-

"Oh gods, just go," Blaise said sounding somewhat exasperated and completely breaking the moment.

Harry and Draco looked to him in surprise as if they had forgotten everyone else was there. They looked back at each other for a split second and then they moved at exactly the same time; both sprinting towards the archway that led up to Harry's room, Draco shoving the muffin back into Pansy's hand on the way past.

There was a beat of silence after their hasty departure and then the rest of the group all burst into laughter, Blaise reaching his hand expectantly out to Seamus who sighed and pulled a Galleon out of his pocket, slapping it into Blaise's palm.

"What's that for?" Pansy asked though a mouthful of blueberry muffin as the others chattered happily around them, congratulating each other and expressing their joy at the ordeal being over.

"I bet Finnegan they'd not last half an hour of Draco getting back before running off to do unspeakable things," Blaise said, eyeing the Galleon with satisfaction. "Although even I wasn't expecting it to be…what was that…a minute? Ninety seconds?"

"You never know, they could just be talking-" Seamus began half heartedly and next to him Ron nodded fervently, obviously agreeing and hoping that Harry and Draco would _not_ be having sex in the room he would later have to sleep in.

"I dare you to go up and find out," Blaise said wickedly.

"Fuck that right off!" Seamus exclaimed, shaking his head violently and holding his hands up in defeat.

" _Just talking_ ," Blaise snorted to Seamus and Hermione and Pansy both giggled and Ron slumped back on the sofa looking rather forlorn. "If they both don't come down walking sideways I'll give you your damn Galleon back."

"Not hanging about today then, Potter-" Draco said breathily as they hurtled up the staircase, taking the steps three at a time.

"Fuck no," Harry replied as they burst through the door into the room, sending the door crashing into the wall.

"You could have let me know-" Harry said as Draco dived at him and tugged open his dressing gown, pushing it off of his shoulders.

"What, and waste time I could be spending getting here?" Draco panted as Harry seized his jumper and wrenched it up over his head.

"You just like causing a scene-" Harry said breathlessly, abandoning Draco's jumper to unbuckle his belt, the force he employed sending Draco staggering forwards a little.

"Yeah, of course – mph!"

Draco wrenched his jumper off and threw it aside but his sentence was cut short as Harry leant in and crashed their mouths together, kissing him hard.

And oh fuck- it was rough and messy and it tasted of everything they would ever need. Draco seized Harry's head in his hands and their tongues touched and Harry needed him, needed to-

His hands were fumbling as he started undoing the buttons of Draco's school shirt and Draco laughed against Harry's mouth and Harry was smiling too, because how could he not smile when he had Draco right back here and there was no doubt, no worry, nothing that could make this any less than _brilliant_ -

"You know we should- oh- be talking and stuff-" Draco managed to say.

"Later," Harry breathed and kissed him again and Draco for once in his life didn't argue, instead choosing to yank his tie off and throw it impatiently away.

By the time they reached the bed and fell back onto the unmade covers Harry was only wearing his boxers and Draco was trying to kick off his shoes so he could get his trousers off, which were currently halfway down his thighs.

"Fuck, I missed you," Harry said violently and kissed him again before he could answer. Harry didn't need an answer though; Draco was giving him exactly what he needed in the way he kissed him back and pressed his body hard against Harry's and gripped onto him like he never wanted to let go ever again. Their remaining clothes didn't last long at all and Harry soon found himself laid beside a very naked Draco who had one of his legs thrown over Harry's hip and was firmly pressing their groins together in the most delicious way-

There was a slam and Harry jumped and looked up to see Draco pointing his wand at the door, flicking it again to lock it with a loud click.

"We are _not_ being interrupted," Draco said firmly and Harry felt a thrill run through him, a feeling that was intensified as Draco pulled him into a sitting position and then clambered into his lap, wrapping his legs around his waist.

Words couldn't describe how this felt to either of them. Harry was flooded with relief and joy and just couldn't get close enough to Draco to satisfy the craving need burning inside him. Draco was holding him tightly, unwilling to let go for even a moment. It had been torture; eight years of want and then when he had finally gotten to where he was happy, he had had that torn away from him in the blink of an eye. Instead of words, they used their actions to show each other how they were feeling, to ell each other how badly they wanted each other. Draco gasped as Harry's hands slid down his back to cup his arse, squeezing tightly and making Draco buck against him.

"Oh God," Harry groaned, his mouth pressed to Draco's collarbone and Draco continued to circle his hips, roughly grinding against him, moaning delightfully into his ear.

"Do you want-" Draco asked.

"Oh god yes," Harry replied and Draco was laughing against his ear, reaching for his wand.

"Should I move-" Harry said uncertainly as Draco retrieved his wand and gently pressed kisses along the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"Yeah," Draco murmured, but rather than moving positions entirely he simply shoved Harry backwards so he was flat on his back with Draco sat cross his waist. "Better."

Harry was unsure that this would even work, let alone be comfortable for the both of them but he trusted Draco's judgement so accepted the turn of events. He lay back, gently running his hands up and down Draco's thighs, squirming on the bed as Draco cast the necessary charms on them both, smiling wickedly down at him. He smiled back and pulled Draco closer by his wrists so he was straddled over Harry's body, enabling Harry to slowly slide one hand down Draco's back and place the other onto the back of his neck, holding him close.

Draco's eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled slowly as Harry's hand slid lower and lower, across his back and the curve of his arse and then he gently entered a finger into him. Harry waited, biting his lip but Draco arched his spine with a groan and then leant down to bite on Harry's shoulder, the wanton movement snapping Harry's patience and self control and making him slip a second finger into Draco's tight heat.

"Don't stop," Draco breathed, his whole body trembling and Harry was only too happy to oblige, moving his fingers with increasing speed and force, knowing Draco would thoroughly enjoy his rough attentions.

They were both panting and Harry was shifting discreetly on the bed, desperate for some relief for his burning arousal and his aching erection, and Draco wasn't helping matters with the way he moaned and flexed his body in response to Harry now thrusting his fingers in and out as fast as he could manage at his current angle.

"More," Draco gasped and he moved back suddenly, rising up onto his knees and forcing Harry to move his hand.

"God, look at you," Harry breathed, staring up at him, his hands grabbing hold of his legs.

"I'm busy looking at _you_ ," Draco retorted and then he took hold of Harry's cock, positioning it towards his body. Harry hastened to help, holding one of Draco's hands tight in his so Draco could brace himself upright and holding his cock steady with the other hand as Draco slowly moved, sliding down and they were almost there- and then the head of Harry's cock had breached him, pushing past that tight ring of muscle, slipping further and deeper inside with ease. He couldn't help but cry out as Draco dropped his body lower and lower, not stopping until he ended up sat flat against Harry's pelvis, shaking uncontrollably.

"Don't move," Harry managed to say and Draco let out a shaky laugh.

"At some point I'm going to have to," he said unsteadily and Harry cried out again as he felt Draco's muscles tightening and loosening around his cock.

"Don't," he pleaded. "Just give me a moment."

He threw his head back onto the mattress, clenching his eyes shut and breathing out shakily. Oh _God_ he had never felt anything this intense before, not _ever_ , and it took long moments before his body was back under control.

"Ok, go," he whispered and immediately Draco raised his body up and slammed it back down, drawing shocked groans from the both of them. Draco did it again, and again and they were soon lost in the rhythm of thrusting and gliding together, Harry instinctively pushing his hips up to meet each of Draco's downwards thrusts. It was unbelievable- in all of Harry's daydreams and fantasies he had never contemplated anything like this; thrills were running through him at the realisation that even though he was the one penetrating Draco, he was definitely the one being fucked.

Draco was in his element, controlling the pace and the pleasure for both of them, never stopping his smooth movements even when Harry thrust up with uncontrollable force or begged and pleaded with him in a beautifully broken voice. They were both covered in sweat, moving together for what seemed like forever, finally feeling complete and back where they belonged-

"Harry-"

Harry used his arms to push himself into a sitting position at the sound of his name and Draco cried out, slipping into Harry's lap, awkwardly moving his legs so they were wrapped around his waist, seizing Harry's shoulders and clenching his eyes shut as the new position pushed Harry even deeper inside him.

Harry was kissing his face, everywhere he could reach and Draco returned the desperate kisses, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck.

"I missed you," Draco whispered fiercely and Harry crashed their mouths together with a stifled groan, and Draco circled his hips experimentally, rocking in Harry's lap, and he felt Harry stiffen in his arms, his fingertips pressing hard into Draco's skin.

"Don't, I'll come-" Harry begged.

"So will I," Draco panted in return and moved again, feeling shocks running through his body as Harry's cock, imbedded so deep inside him, brushed against that perfect spot over and over without pause-

"Oh, fuck, Draco-" Harry sounded slightly panicked and Draco knew what that meant and he let himself go, pushing that bit harder and as Harry's trembling lips touched his again he came so hard he thought he'd stopped breathing. Harry was burying his face into his shoulder and crying out hoarsely, his body shuddering under Draco's and he took Harry's head in his hands and tilted his face up to press a hard kiss against his lips and it was perfect.

 

* * *

 

"Potter?" Draco's voice drifted casually through from the bathroom, where he was stood doing his tie up in the mirror.

"Mmm?" Harry asked lazily, sitting on the edge of the bed and tying his shoelaces up, still lost in warm recollections from earlier. He was smiling, feeling sated and comfortable and lethargic in the sun that poured through the window.

"You know I love you, right?"

Harry paused, his fingers still on his laces. The words washed around him and as they sank in his lips slowly curved into a smile. "Yeah, I know."

"Good," came the reply as Draco came out of the bathroom, fully dressed and ready to go back down into the castle. Harry finished tying his laces and set his feet down, holding his hands out to Draco who walked over and took them, kissing Harry's knuckles and making him smile.

"You ready to go?" Harry asked and Draco shrugged, slipping sideways so he was perched on Harry's knee.

"I'd rather just stay here," he muttered, kissing Harry's cheek.

"Check you out being all mushy," Harry grinned, looping his arms around Draco's waist and half expecting to receive a slap for the comment.

"Yeah, I am," Draco simply said. "Take advantage of it while it lasts."

They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying being with each other and take the time just to sit and quietly revel in the feeling of being back together, breathing in each other and gently running fingertips over skin.

"Are you going to tell me what happened to you whilst you were gone? Harry asked softly after a while.

"I will at some point," Draco said slowly. "But not today. Today I want to just want to enjoy being back."

"And how do you plan on doing that then?" Harry grinned, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Hanging out with my friends, eating ridiculous amounts of food, taunting Pansy for a while, catching up on Quidditch scores and then fucking you into the mattress this evening," Draco replied promptly. "Preferably in that order."

"Oh, all planned out then," Harry quipped.

"Yep," Draco said and bit him on his ear, making him yelp.

"You certainly didn't learn to play nice when you were away," Harry grumbled.

"Nope," Draco said, biting gently down on Harry's ear again, this time not hard enough to hurt. "But you didn't get with me because I play nice, if you remember rightly."

"Touché."

Draco shifted further onto Harry's knee with a contented sigh and buried his face in his shoulder, making Harry smile. He knew Draco was reluctant to leave Harry's arms now he was back there, even for a moment.

Harry gently pressed his lips to Draco's ear, still smiling. "I love you," he gently whispered.

"I was waiting for you to say that back," Draco's muffled voice said. "I was going to punch you if you didn't."

Harry laughed and let go of the blonde, pushing him off his knee. "Come on. Your friends will kill me if I keep you to myself all day, let's go find them."

Together?" Draco enquired and Harry grinned.

"Of course."

He stood up and Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder, hugging him with an arm around his waist. Harry hugged him back, kissing him gently on his temple and feeling ridiculously content and happy. Unable to help himself, Harry kissed him once more before moving away and stepping towards the door.

This was his life now. There were no more battles to fight, no more obstacles to overcome, Draco was by his side and there was no reason for him to be going anywhere. Things were finally settling into place; all the puzzle pieces slotting together perfectly and forming a picture that really didn't seem that scary anymore.

"What?" Draco frowned, catching Harry looking at him, pausing in the doorway and then holding his hand out with his fingers spread, ready for Harry to take.

Harry looked at Draco and then at his hand, and then his face broke into a broad smile. He walked over and took Draco's hand so they were standing side by side, ready to leave the room and walk down the staircase to face the rest of the day.

"What?" Draco repeated, tugging at Harry's hand.

Harry just smiled and shrugged.

"Nothing."


	24. Epilogue

_2,291 days later._

Harry slowly felt his body wandering back into consciousness, bit by bit becoming aware of his surroundings but not wanting to open his eyes. He could feel the soft sheets beneath him, a warm fluffy duvet covering him and best of all, behind him he could feel a warm body pressed against his back. This was his favourite place to be on cold winter mornings like today; curled up in bed with Draco right next to him. He wriggled contentedly, revelling in the fact it was Saturday and that meant he didn't have to go to training and Draco didn't have to go to Gringott's so they could stay in bed much longer, which would be all damn day if he got his way.

He shifted backwards and heard Draco mumble something sleepily before throwing an arm forwards over his waist, pulling him back even closer to his body. Harry rolled over so they were face to face, threading one of his legs between Draco's so their limbs were wonderfully entangled.

Two arms wrapped around him and Draco groaned sleepily, stretching his body out taught and yawning before flopping back onto the sheets with a sigh. Harry gently pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth and felt Draco's lips curve in a smile, one hand slowly stealing up Harry's back and threading into his hair as Draco kissed him in return; one long, lazy kiss that made Harry feel even more comfortable and content than he already was.

Being cuddly was obviously not top of Draco's list of priorities that morning because he kissed Harry again, this time with lips slightly parted and his tongue gently flickering over his bottom lip at the same time that he stretched his body out again, but this time engineering his movement so his body pressed against Harry's in what he probably hoped to convey as a completely innocent motion-

Harry laughed softly and kissed him back, his legs sliding against Draco's and his hands slipping over his waist and down across the ridge of his hipbone, the tone under the duvet going from lazy to distinctly mischievous in an instant. Draco made a noise of approval deep in his throat and his free hand was wandering down Harry's back, lower and lower-

"AHHH!"

Harry and Draco both jumped a mile as a muffled scream rent the air, coming from somewhere else in the house, followed quickly by shouting that could be heard through the closed door with ease.

"Give it back-"

"No- s'mine!"

"It's mine!"

"Oh for fucks sake," Draco whined, rolling onto his front and pulling the pillow over his head to block out the sounds of the fight which sounded like was happening on the landing that joined the corridor outside their room. Harry shushed him and listened intently- there was the distinct sound of footsteps and then silence fell. He glanced at the clock and saw it was only ten past eight in the morning.

"It's OK, they've stopped," he said, rolling over to nuzzle Draco's back, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the top of Draco's spine.

"Not happening," Draco said adamantly from under the pillow.

"Come on," Harry grinned, pressing gentle kisses down Draco's spine until he reached the small of his back, something he knew the blonde loved and could rarely resist.

"No way," Draco repeated firmly, apparently remembering his sense of self-control that morning. "Not if I know there's a possibility of Weasley brats coming in."

"They're not brats," Harry said with a sigh, abandoning his attempts to get Draco back in the mood and wriggling back up the bed to rest his chin on his shoulder blade.

"They are too."

Harry shoved at him lightly. "And it's not _just_ Weasleys you're calling brats, it's Teddy too, who by my calculations is closer to being a _Malfoy_ brat-"

Draco pulled the pillow off his head to glare at Harry but just as he opened his mouth to retort there was a shout from the corridor, followed by a thud and then after a moments pause, a high pitched wail.

"I'm not going," Draco said smartly, pulling the duvet back up over his shoulder.

"I went yesterday!" Harry protested.

"Yeah, because you're better at this looking after small children thing than me," Draco said impatiently.

"Please?" Harry pleaded, abandoning all pretence. He did _not_ want to be the one who had to get out of their wonderfully warm bed into the cold air.

Draco eyed him for a moment and then rolled over with a definite, "no."

Harry tried to simultaneously roll him back over and prise the duvet out of Draco's grip. It was a half hearted effort; he had quickly learnt whilst still at Hogwarts that Draco was a notorious duvet thief who never gave up his supposedly 'well earned' blankets without a fight. "You know, even though I love that you still treat me normally, you don't have to say no to everything," Harry said, exasperated.

Draco refused to budge. "I'm not saying no to make a point, I'm saying no because I'm lazy."

"God you're hopeless," Harry said, shaking his head and letting go of the duvet, wondering just how painfully cold it was going to be once he was out of the bed.

"When it's our kids making a racket I'll consider getting out of bed at 8 in the morning," Draco said, rolling back towards Harry and reaching a hand up to tug his pillow back into place. "These ones belong to _your_ friends so you should be the one to go."

"Hermione and Ron are your friends too, and you get on with George so don't give me that rubbish about them being only being _my_ friends-" Harry suddenly paused as he re-ran Draco's words through his head. "Hang on, what did you just say?"

"Nothing," Draco said quickly, clamping the pillow back over his head.

"No, you said-" Harry said distractedly, sitting up and yanking the pillow away from Draco's head. "You said _our_ kids-"

"Can we please have this discussion when I'm actually awake? Preferably after lunch?" Draco pleaded, trying to reach back for the pillow.

"You're willing to _have_ this discussion?" Harry asked, gobsmacked.

"Go away, Harry," Draco grumbled, abandoning reaching for the pillow and pulling the blanket back up over his head instead.

Harry laid back on his side, smiling widely and gently pulling the duvet away from Draco's face. "Not on your life," he whispered, and kissed his cheekbone.

"Fine," Draco groaned, rolling sideways a little to look at him, looking grumpy. "Yes, I've thought about it. Yes, it wouldn't be so bad. Yes I've looked into it and _maybe_ I've set up a bank account that you know nothing about and have been putting money into it for when it does happen because you sure as hell wouldn't think of sensibilities like that."

Harry stared at him for a split second and then laughed delightedly, slipping an arm under him and rolling them both over so Draco ended up laid on top of him, letting out a yelp and then looking rather put out, bracing his hands on Harry's shoulders to hold himself up.

"Harry!"

"I love you," Harry said earnestly and Draco rolled his eyes but leant down to kiss him nevertheless, his forearms resting on the pillow either side of Harry's head.

"I know," he whispered. "I love you too. Now let me go back to bed."

Harry kissed him back gently and as he did he felt Draco shift discretely against him, obviously now having other thoughts than simply going back to sleep and well and truly forgetting his earlier objections. Harry grinned against Draco's lips, wrapping his arms tight around his neck as Draco rolled his hips again before pressing kisses along Harry's jawbone and towards his ear, making them both let out appreciative moans-

CRASH

From just down the hallway came the sound of something smashing and a set of squeals and shrieks, followed by frantic footsteps running in the opposite direction.

"Oh, fuck it," Draco groaned and rolled off of Harry who started laughing at the exasperated and resigned expression on Draco's face. Draco rolled to the side of the bed and reached down to grab a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, pulling them on with a bad grace.

"What're you doing?" Harry asked, amused.

"Going to murder whoever just broke something," Draco said half-heartedly.

"Play nice," Harry grinned, watching Draco stand up and stretch, yawning widely.

"I always play nice," Draco replied, reaching for this dressing gown and wrapping it around himself, tying the belt up with unnecessary force. "I just don't get why you always volunteer _us_ to look after everyone else's kids when they decide to run off on holiday at last minute-"

" _You_ told Andromeda we'd take Teddy," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, because I didn't know _you'd_ said we'd have the brats here!" Draco argued.

"Freddie and Rose are not brats-"

"They are, and I blame you," Draco said, shoving his feet into Harry's slippers. "You're too soft on them."

"Yeah well," Harry mumbled, rolling over and nuzzling back down into the pillow. "You can be the strict one."

Draco shot him a withering look and turned on his heel, leaving Harry grinning into the pillow. Draco slammed the door and Harry heard his footsteps walking away along the corridor. He waited for a moment and sure enough a moment later-

" _OI!_ "

Harry laughed as Draco's shout echoed through the house, knowing he had the situation in hand. True, he ran out of patience a lot quicker than Harry did and often dipped out of social gatherings involving kids earlier than could be deemed polite, but it didn't matter. For some unfathomable reason the kids adored him and held him in the highest of respect; never pushing it with Draco the way they did with Harry and the others. They also got thoroughly over-excited on the occasions where Draco had a moment and rolled his sleeves up to get stuck in to play with them or help them out with whatever mischief they were in the process of creating.

Even after six years Harry wasn't tired of Draco. He doubted he could ever get tired of him. Draco still had an unparalleled ability to make Harry feel like the centre of the universe whilst keeping him grounded and feel normal at the same time. Draco was far from perfect, and they both knew it. He would forget important events, turn up late for dates, call last minute to say he was working late, throw still spectacular fits of temper over daft things but it didn't matter. He would always make it up to Harry in spades, with unexpected gifts, gentle kisses and honest words when Harry least expected them.

Harry himself could be a challenge at times. He would get moody and Draco would always do his very best to cheer him up and coax him out from under the black clouds even when Harry wasn't willing or co-operative. His work was hard on Draco as well, especially when he had to leave for days at a time for international Quidditch games. He knew it reminded Draco of their time apart during his arrest in eighth year, and he made special effort to reassure and comfort the blonde when he got home.

They still fought. Oh god, they could still fight like no-one else in the world. But now the fights were always laced with a delicious undercurrent of loyalty and love, both knowing that now after the fights there would be the chance to make it up to each other. And seeing as that meant lots of make-up sex, everyone was happy.

Harry lasted a whole five minutes in bed reminiscing before feeling guilty about sending Draco to sort out the kids. After all, he _was_ Godfather to two of them, even if Draco and Teddy were related by blood. And Draco hated getting out of bed, especially when it was cold and he could be having a lie-in. Giving in to his guilt, Harry climbed out of bed and pulled on boxers, a T-shirt and his dressing gown, forgoing slippers as Draco had stolen them earlier. Padding across the landing and down the stairs, he heard the sounds of voices coming from the kitchen. He stole to the doorway and smiled broadly, leaning on the doorframe as he saw what was going on.

Draco was stood by the kitchen counter with Rose balanced on one hip, one arm holding her tightly and her arms wrapped around his neck. He was leaning over to pour out a glass of juice with one hand, passing it down to Teddy who was talking at him rapidly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Freddie was swinging around one of his legs, tugging on the bottom of Draco's dressing gown and listening earnestly to Teddy with an enraptured expression on his face.

"Well it's not quite the same, I can turn into my animal whenever I want, but your Dad couldn't choose when he turned into his-" Draco frowned, pouring another glass of juice and passing it down to Freddie with some difficulty who took it eagerly, still holding onto Draco's leg with one hand.

"So you could do it like now? Can Harry do it too?" Teddy asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes I could do it now, if I wasn't carrying this ginger menace," Draco said, poking Rose on the nose who giggled and buried her face in his shoulder. "You want juice?"

She shook her curly head and Draco shrugged, shifting her in his grip slightly. "Fair enough. Teddy, eat your breakfast and I'll show you later-"

He looked up as Teddy started talking again and saw Harry leant against the doorway, watching him with a smile on his face. Draco froze in surprise, opened his mouth, scowled, shut it again and then pointed at Harry with his free hand.

"Shut up," he said threateningly and Harry grinned.

"Didn't say a word," he said, wandering over and kissing Draco quickly.

"Go back to bed," Draco huffed. "I'll be back when the vultures have finished breakfast."

"And miss you being all domesticated? Not likely," Harry grinned, pointing his wand at the kettle.

"F-" Draco began and caught himself just before he swore, instead glaring daggers at Harry. "You mention this to _anyone_ and I'll have to kill you."

"You wouldn't kill him, would you?" Teddy asked through a mouthful of toast, staring at Draco with wide eyes.

"No he wouldn't, he just gets _very_ grumpy when he wakes up," Harry grinned, snatching a piece of toast off of Teddy's plate. "See, he's being extra grumpy this morning because he doesn't like people knowing he's actually nice," he mock-whispered conspiratorially to Teddy who nodded knowingly.

"He _is_ nice," Rose announced, turning her face towards Harry, her cheek still resting on Draco's shoulder.

Harry choked on his mouthful of toast as Draco opened his mouth incredulously and then gave up, shaking his head and looking helplessly at Harry.

"See what you've done?" he asked ruefully, carefully pouring two mugs of coffee out for him and Harry. "I'm going to have to do something awful now to get my reputation back."

"I'm sure we'll think of _something_ bad for you to do," Harry said suggestively and he ducked and burst into laughter as Draco chucked a spoon at him to the soundtrack of delighted shrieks from the children.

He summoned it off of the floor, grinning at Draco and raising his hands in defence as Draco advanced, his hand raised and clearly intending to either cuff Harry round the back of the head, or more than likely pinch him: as his latest of weapon of choice pinching had recently taken over from kicks to the shins. Harry still wasn't sure which he preferred to be on the receiving end of, though had found hair-pulling to be a sure-fire way of getting back at either.

"Behave," he warned, laughing but of course Draco paid no notice and the kitchen was full of shrieks of laughter as Draco lunged for him again. Harry grabbed his wrist and held it away from him, still laughing and reaching out a hand to steady Rose who was precariously balanced on Draco's hip but he needed have worried; Draco still had a firm grip on her even as she squealed with laughter and reached out for Draco's sleeve, trying to tug it away from Harry.

Harry managed to twist Draco's sleeve in his fist and pulled him close, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Git," Draco muttered and swung Rose onto Harry's lap, walking over to fetch the two mugs of coffee. Harry couldn't help but laugh and as Draco turned around with the drinks he gave in, grinning back and walking over to pass Harry a mug and kiss his forehead.

Sat there at a stupidly early hour for a Saturday, in his kitchen which now resembled a bomb site, Harry suddenly felt overwhelmingly glad that he'd not had to wait six years for Draco to get out of Azkaban, if things had gone that way after eighth year. He would only just be out now, and all of the memories of the past six years wouldn't exist...

He shook the thought off, firmly telling himself that that didn't need thinking about. Draco _was_ there and they had spent the past six years together being ridiculously happy, something both of them deserved and had finally managed to attain. Of course, he would have waited for Draco if it had come to it, but this, what they had now- it was dysfunctional and it was crazy and of course it was absolutely fucking perfect.


End file.
